'^JUzSz'^. 


PERDITA  :  "  reverend  sirs, 

For  you  there's  rosemary  and  rue  " 

The  Winter's  Tale  Act  IV  Scene  3 


Copyright,    1901 

By 

THE    UNIVERSITY    SOCIETY 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE. 


Preface. 


CXJLLEGE 
LIBRARY 


The  First  Edition.  The  Winter's  Tale  appeared  for 
the  first  time  in  the  First  FoUo,  where  it  is  the  last  of  the 
*  Comedies.'  It  is  perhaps  the  most  carefully  printed  play 
in  the  Folio.  At  the  end  of  the  play  the  '  Names  of  the 
Actors  '  are  given. 

Date  of  Composition.  (I.)  Apart  from  consideration 
of  style,  the  following  facts  make  it  almost  certain  that 
The  Winter's  Tale  was  one  of  Shakespeare's  latest  pro- 
ductions, and  may  safely  be  assigned  to  the  years  1610-11 : 
—  (i.)  It  is  mentioned  in  the  Office-Book  of  Sir  Henry 
Herbert  as  an  old  play  ("  formerly  allowed  of  Sir  George 
Buck,  and  likewise  by  me  on  Mr.  Hemming's  word  that 
there  is  nothing  profane  added  or  reformed,  though  the 
allowed  book  was  missing,  and  therefore  I  returned  it 
without  a  fee,  this  19  of  August  1623").  Sir  George 
Buck  took  possession  of  the  office  of  the  Master  of  the 
Revels  in  August,  1610.  (ii.)  Dr.  Simon  Forman  in  his 
'  Bool?  of  Plaies  and  Notes  thereof  has  a  lengthy  refer- 
ence to  a  performance  of  this  play  at  the  Globe  Theatre 
on  May  15th,  161 1.  Judging  by  Forman's  careful  an- 
alysis of  the  plot,  it  must  have  been  a  new  play  at  that 
time,  (iii.)  Ben  Jonson  mentions  it  with  The  Tempest 
in  the  Induction  to  his  Bartliolomeiv  Fair  (1612-1614)  : 
"  If  there  be  never  a  Servant  monster  i'  the  Fayre,  who 
can  help  it,  he  sayes ;  nor  of  nest  of  Antiques'^  He  is 
loth  to  make  nature  afraid  in  his  Plays,  like  those  that 
beget  Tales,  Tempests,  and  such  like  Drolleries." 

(II.)  Internal  tests  fully  corroborate  the  external  evi- 


Preface  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

dence: — (i.)  With  the  exception  of  the  prologue-Hke 
chorus  scene  of  Act  IV.,  no  five-measure  Hues  are 
rhymed;  (ii.)  run-on  lines  and  double-endings  abound; 
(iii.)  the  logical  structure  is  'more  elliptical,  involved, 
and  perplexing  than  that  of  any  other  work  of  Shake- 
speare's ' ;  (iv.)  furthermore,  the  remarkable  two-fold 
structure  of  the  play  gives  to  it  the  appearance  of  being 
one  of  Shakespeare's  boldest  experiments  in  dramatic  art. 
''  It  is  rare,  if  not  unprecedented,  in  any  art,"  observes 
Mr.  Watkiss  Lloyd,  "  to  find  an  effective  whole  resulting 
from  the  blank  opposition  of  two  precisely  counterbal- 
anced halves  when  not  united  by  common  reference  to 
some  declared  third  magnitude.  Nor  is  such  a  uniting 
power  wanting  in  the  present  instance,  whatever  may  ap- 
pear to  external  view  " ;  (v.)  finally,  there  are  the  unmis- 
takeable  links  connecting  The  Winter's  Tale  with  Pericles, 
Cymhelinc,  and  The  Tempest,  '  its  companion  and  comple- 
ment ' — the  Romances  which  belong  to"  the  close  of  the 
Poet's  life.  On  them  all  his  gentle  spirit  seems  to  rest ; 
*  Timon  the  misanthrope  '  no  longer  delights  him ;  his 
visions  are  of  human  joy — scenes  of  forgiveness,  recon- 
ciliation, and  peace — a  world  where  father  is  re-united 
with  child,  husband  with  wife,  brother  with  brother, 
friend  with  friend.  Like  his  own  Miranda,  Shakespeare 
in  these  Romances  again  finds  the  world  beautiful ; — 

'  0  wonder! 

How  many  goodly  creatures  are  there  here! 

How  beauteous  mankind  is!    O  brave  nczu  zvorld 

That  has  such  people  in  't! ' 

The  Sources  of  the  Plot.  The  story  of  The  Winter':: 
Tale  was  derived  from  one  of  the  most  popular  of  Eliza- 
bethan novels — probably  based  on  some  real  episode  in  the 
history  of  Poland  and  Bohemia  in  the  XlVth  century 
{cp.  Englische  Studien,  1878,  1888 — ' Pandosto:  the 
Triumph  of  Time  '  (or,  '  Dorastiis  and  Fazvnia^)  "  where- 
in," according  to  its  modest  title-page,  ''  is  discovered  by  a 
pleasant  History,  that  although  by  the  means  of  sinister 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


Preface 


The  two  lovers. 

From  the  title  page  of  ''Dorastus  and 

Fawnia.^ 


fortune,  Truth  may  be 
concealed,  yet  by  Time  in 
spite  of  fortune  it  is  most 
manifestly  revealed :  pleas- 
ant for  age  to  avoid  drowsy 
thoughts,  profitable  for 
youth  to  eschev,'  other  wan- 
ton pastimes,  and  bringing 
to  both  a  desired  content. 
Teinporis  filia  z'critas/''^ 
The  book  first  appeared  in 
1 588 ;  its  success  may  be 
gathered  from  the  fact  that 
no  less  than  fourteen  edi- 
tions are  known  to  have 
been  issued.  Its  author 
w^as  none  other  than  the  novelist  ^  Robert  Greene, 
'  Maister  of  Artes  in  Cambridge,'  whose  death-bed 
utterances,  reported  in  his  '  Groatszuorth  of  Wit 
boitgJit  ivith  a  Million  of  Repentance,'  anticipated  a  veri- 
table '  Triumph  of  Time,'  save  that  the  absolute  Johannes 
Factotum,  '  Maister  of  Artes  in  Neither  University,'  was 
destined  to  become,  not  in  his  own  conceit,  but  by  uni- 
versal acclamation,  '  the  only  Shake-scene  in  a  country.' 
The  *  scald,  lying,  trivial  pamphlet '  (as  its  apologetic 
publisher  subsequently  described  it)  could  not  have  had 
reference  to  The  Winter's  Tale,  at  least  in  the  form  we 
know  it ;  in  all  probability  the  old  quarrel  was  altogether* 
forgotten,  Shakespeare  certainly  bore  no  resentment  to 
Greene's  memory,  when  he  '  beautified  himself  '  wath  the 
fine  feathers  of  Dorastus  and  Fazvnia.\ 

*  HazHtt's  Shakespeare's  Library.    (Cp.  Coleridge's  adaptation.) 

t  A   few   critics  are   inclined  to  find  a   hit  at   Shakespeare   in 

Marlowe's  Dido,  as  finished  by  Nash,  and  adduce  the  following 

couplet  as  evidence  that  The  Winter's  Tale  was  an  early  play!! 

-(^neas  says : — 

'  Who  zvould  not  undergo  all  kinds  of  toil, 
To  he  well-stored  with  such  a  Winter's  Tale?' 


Preface  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

The  Novel  and  the  Play.  Greene's  then  is  the  ground ; 
Shakespeare's  name  is  graven  on  the  workmanship.  Some 
notable  refinements  due  to  the  dramatist  are  the  follow- 
ing : — (i.)  In  the  novel  Hermione's  prototype  actually  dies 
upon  hearing  of  the  death  of  her  son;  (ii.)  her  husband 
destroys  himself,  after  becoming  enamoured  of  his  un- 
known daughter;  (iii.)  the  characters  of  Paulina,  Au- 
tolycus,  and  Antigonus  are  entirely  Shakespeare's;  (iv.) 
Hermione's  character  is  ennobled  throughout;  Shake- 
speare admits  no  '  incautiousness  '  on  her  part,  no  un- 
queenly  condescension  in  meeting  the  charge;  (v.)  Bo- 
hemia takes  the  place  of  Sicily,  and  vice  versa,  ''  appar- 
ently from  a  feeling  that  Bohemia  carried  better  than 
Sicily  the  associations  of  deserts  and  remoteness " ; 
finally,  (vi.)  the  names  are  changed  throughout: — Polix- 
enes  =  Pandosto  ;  Leontes  =  Egistus  ;  Hermione  =  Bel- 
laria  ;  Mamillius  =  Garinter ;  Florizel  =  Dorastus  ;  Per- 
dita  =  Fawnia.  The  Greek  element  in  Shakespeare's  list 
of  names  is  striking,  and  should  perhaps  be  considered  in 
connexion  with  the  Alcestis  motif  of  the  closing  scene  of 
the  play.  The  Winter's  Tale,  from  this  latter  point  of 
view,  suggests  comparisons  with  the  '  tragi-comedy '  of 
Euripides.  One  cannot  but  think  that,  by  some  means  or 
other,  directly  or  indirectly,  Shakespeare  owed  his  de- 
nouement to  the  Greek  dramatist, — certainly  to  the  Greek 
story.* 

*  Q.  Alcestis,  11.  1121-1134,  which  have  been  translated  as  fol- 
lows : — 
"Hercules.  Toward  her  turn  thine  eyes, 

And  say  if  she  resembleth  not  thy  wife. 

Rest  happy  now,  and  all  thy  pains  forget. 
Admetus.  O  ye  immortal  gods!  what  can  I  say 

At  this  unhoped,  unlooked  for  miracle? 

Do  I  in  truth  behold  my  wife,  or  doth 

Some  phantom  of  delight  o'er  power  my  sense? 
Hercules.   This  is  no  phantom  but  your  own  true  wife. 
Admetus.  Art  sure  she  is  no  ghost  from  the  nether  world? 
Hercules.  You  did  not  think  a  sorcerer  was  your  guest." 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


Preface 


Autolycus. 
From  a  XVIth  century  woodcut. 


Autolycus.  Shakespeare's  rogue  has  a  distinguished 
pedigree ;  his  ancestor  dwelt  on  Parnassus,  where  he  was 
visited  by  his  grandson  Ulys- 
ses. A  slight  character  sketch 
is  given  of  him  in  Book  XIX. 
of  the  Odyssey,  392-8: — 

''Autolycus,  who  th'  art 
Of  theft  and  swearing  {not  out  of 

the  heart 
But  by  equivocation)  first  adorn' d 
Your  zvitty  man  withal,  and  was 

suborn'd 
By    Jove's    descend'nt    ingenious 

Mercury.""^ 

Shakespeare,  in  all  proba- 
bility, first  became  ac- 
quainted with  Autolycus  in 
the  pages  of  his  favourite 
Ovid,  perhaps  in  Golding's 
translation  {cp.  Metamorphoses,  Bk.  XI.).f 

The  Seaboard  of  Bohemia.  Drummond  of  Haw- 
thornden,  in  his  famous  '  Conversations'  recorded  that 
Ben  Jonson  said,  ''  Shakespeare  wanted  art  and  sometimes 
sense,  for  in  one  of  his  plays  he  brought  in  a  number  of 
men   saying  they   had   suffered   shipwreck   in    Bohemia, 

Admetus.  O  form  and  feature  of  my  dearest  wife, 

Against  all  hope  thou  once  again  art  minei. 

(W.  F.  Nevins.) 
Observe,  too,  that  Alcestis  dare  not  speak  to  Admetus  for  three 
days;  Hermione  similarly  'lives,  though  yet  she  speaks  not'; 
when  she  does  find  voice,  it  is  to  call  a  blessing  on  Perdita;  no 
word  is  addressed  to  Leontes.  There  are  other  remarkable  par- 
allels in  the  two  plays. 

*  Chapman's  paraphrase  (pub.  1616)  ;  cp.  "My  father  named 
me  Autolycus,  who  being  as  I  am,  littered  under  Mercury,  was 
likewise  a  snapper  up  of  unconsidered  trifles." 

t  It  is  possible  that  Shakespeare's  Autolycus  owed  something  to 
Thomas  Newbery's  'Book  of  Dives  Pragmaticus,'  1563  (reprinted 
in  Huth's  'Fugitive  Tracts,'  1875). 


Preface  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

where  is  no  sea  nearly  loo  miles."  This  censure  has  been 
frequently  repeated.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Shakespeare 
follows  Greene  in  this  geographical  detail.  He  may  or 
may  not  have  known  better ;  incongruities  and  anachro- 
nisms are  not  out  of  place  in  '  A  Winter  s  Tale  ' ;  he  cer- 
tainly bettered  Greene's  example,  "  making  Whitsun  pas- 
torals, Christian  burial,  Giulio  Romano,  the  Emperor  of 
Russia,  and  Puritans  singing  psalms  to  hornpipes,  all  con- 
temporary with  the  oracle  of  Delphi," — the  island  of 
Delphi ! 

Like  the  Chorus  Time  in  the  play,  Romance  might  well 
claim : — 

'  It  is  in  my  power 
To  overthrow  law  and  in  one  self-born  hour 
To  plant  and  overwhelm  custom.'     (Act  IV.  i.  7-9.) 

The  Duration  of  Action.  The  Winter's  Tale,  with  its 
interval  of  sixteen  years  between  two  acts,*  may  be  said, 
too,  to  mark  the  final  overthrow  of  Time — the  hallowed 
'  Unity  of  Time ' — by  its  natural  adversary,  the  Roman- 
tic Drama.  The  play  recalls  Sir  Philip  Sidney's  criti- 
cism, in  his  Apologie  for  Poetrie,  anent  the  crude  romantic 
plays  popular  about  1580,  when  he  outlined  a  plot  some- 
what analogous  to  that  of  The  Winter  s  Tale  as  a  typical 
instance  of  the  abuse  of  dramatic  decorum  by  lawless  play- 
wrights, who,  contrary  to  academic  rule,  neglected  both 
'  time  and  place.'  The  Winter's  Tale,  perhaps  the  very 
last  of  Shakespeare's  comedies,  appropriately  emphasises, 
as  it  were,  the  essential  elements  of  the  triumph  of  the 
New  over  the  Old.  Sidney  could  not  foresee,  in  1580, 
the  glorious  future  in  store  for  the  despised  Cinderella  of 
the  playhouses, 

"  now  grown  in  grace 
Equal  with  wondering." 

*  Eight  days  only  are  represented  on  the  stage,  with  an  interval 
of  twenty-three  days  after  Day  2  (Act  II.  Sc.  i.)  ;  and  another 
short  interval  after  Day  4  (Act  III.  Sc.  ii.)  ;  the  main  interval  of 
sixteen  years  comes  between  Acts  III.  and  IV. ;  again,  there  is  a 
short  interval  between  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  and  Act.  V.,  i.e.  the  seventh 
and  eighth  days. 

6 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


Critical  Comments. 
I. 

Argument. 

I.  Polixenes,  king  of  Bohemia,  who  is  visiting  his 
boyhood  friend,  Leontes,  king  of  Siciha,  becomes  de- 
sirous of  returning  to  his  own  kingdom,  and  cannot 
be  persuaded  by  his  host  to  prolong  his  sojourn.  Le- 
ontes then  asks  his  queen,  Hermione,  to  join  her  persua- 
sions to  his  own.  Her  hospitable  entreaties  are  so  suc- 
cessful that  Polixenes  defers  his  departure.  This  slight 
incident  is  sufficient  to  arouse  in  Leontes  a  tempest  of 
jealousy  touching  his  queen's  and  his  friend's  mutual 
honour.  He  endeavours  to  prevail  on  a  courtier  named 
Camillo  to  poison  Polixenes;  whereupon  Camillo  in- 
forms the  guiltless  and  unsuspecting  monarch  of  his 
danger,  and  flees  with  him  to  Bohemia. 

II.  The  flight  confirms  Leontes  in  his  wild  suspicions. 
He  visits  his  wrath  upon  the  innocent  Hermione,  causing 
her  to  be  isolated  in  a  dungeon,  where  she  is  shortly 
afterward  delivered  of  a  daughter.  Paulina,  a  lady  of 
the  court,  presents  the  babe  to  the  king,  but  he  disavows 
it  and  orders  it  to  be  exposed  in  some  remote  desert 
place. 

III.  The  babe,  who  is  named  Perdita  because  she  "  is 
counted  lost  forever,"  is  borne  to  a  coast  of  Bohemia, 
by  a  coiirtier  who  is  afterwards  destroyed  by  a  bear; 
while  the  child  is  found  by  a  poor  shepherd,  who  rears 
it  as  his  own. 

Meanwhile  Hermione,  who  has  been  brought  to  pub- 
lic trial,   is   completely   vindicated   by   a  Delphic   oracle 


Comments  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

declaring:  '' Hermlone  Is  chaste;  Polixenes  blameless; 
Camillo  a  true  subject;  Leontes  a  jealous  tyrant;  his 
innocent  babe  truly  begotten;  and  the  king-  shall  live 
without  an  heir,  if  that  which  is  lost  be  not  found." 
Leontes  discredits  the  oracle  and  is  punished  by  the 
tidings  of  the  sudden  death  of  Hermione  and  her  only 
son.  The  monarch  is  brought  by  this  stroke  to  realize 
the  enormity  of  his  offence.  He  repents  and  resolves 
to  do  daily  penance. 

IV.  Sixteen  years  pass  by.  In  the  court  of  Bohe- 
mia Polixenes  and  his  friend  Camillo  discuss  the  re- 
ported actions  of  the  king's  son  Florizel,  who  of  late  has 
been  paying  assiduous  attention  to  a  shepherd's  lass. 
In  order  to  investigate  the  report  they  disguise  them- 
selves and  visit  the  shepherd's  cottage,  where  they  find 
Florizel  on  the  point  of  betrothing  Perdita.  The  king 
wrathfully  puts  a  stop  to  the  betrothal,  when  the  lovers 
resolve  to  flee  the  country.  Camillo  privately  offers 
to  conduct  them  to  Sicilia,  assuring  them  of  a  warm  wel- 
come on  the  part  of  Leontes.  The  offer  is  gladly  ac- 
cepted. 

V.  Florizel  and  Perdita  are  cordially  received  in 
Sicilia,  but  are  closely  pursued  thither  by  Pohxenes. 
At  this  juncture  the  clothing  and  jewels  found  with  the 
infant  sixteen  years  before  are  produced  by  the  shep- 
herd, thus  establishing  the  identity  of  Perdita  as  daughter 
of  Leontes.  The  joy  of  the  two  sovereigns  at  meeting 
again  after  their  long  separation  is  redoubled  by  the 
prospect  of  uniting  their  children  in  marriage.  One 
thing  only  is  lacking  to  the  perfect  happiness  of  Leontes 
— the  presence  of  his  lost  wife,  whom  he  has  never  ceased 
to  mourn.  Thereupon  Paulina  invites  the  company  to 
inspect  a  statue  of  Hermione.  They  pause  spellbound 
at  the  triumph  of  art,  for  the  supposed  statue  is  so  perfect 
as  to  seem  animate.  At  last  it  actually  stirs,  and  the 
enraptured  Leontes  finds  that  he  is  embracing  not  marble 

8 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Comments 

but  his  living  wife  Hermione,  who,  dwelling  in  retirement, 
has  awaited  the  fulfilment  of  the  oracle. 

McSpadden  :  Shakespearian  Synopses. 

II. 
Hermione. 

The  character  of  Hermione  exhibits  what  is  never 
found  in  the  other  sex,  but  rarely  in  our  own,  yet  some- 
times— dignity  without  pride,  love  without  passion,  and 
tenderness  without  weakness.  To  conceive  a  character 
in  w^hich  there  enters  so  much  of  the  negative,  required 
perhaps  no  rare  and  astonishing  effort  of  genius,  such 
as  created  a  Juliet,  a  Miranda,  or  a  Lady  Macbeth;  but 
to  delineate  such  a  character  in  the  poetical  form,  to 
develop  it  through  the  medium  of  action  and  dialogue, 
without  the  aid  of  description;  to  preserve  its  tranquil, 
mild,  and  serious  beauty,  its  unimpassioned  dignity,  and 
at  the  same  time  keep  the  strongest  hold  upon  our  sym- 
pathy and  our  imagination ;  and  out  of  this  exterior  calm 
produce  the  most  profound  pathos,  the  most  vivid  im- 
pression of  life  and  internal  power — it  is  this  which 
renders  the  character  of  Hermione  one  of  Shakspeare's 
masterpieces, 

Hermione  is  a  queen,  a  matron,  and  a  mother;  she 
is  good  and  beautiful,  and  royally  descended.  A  majes- 
tic sweetness,  a  grand  and  gracious  simplicity,  an  easy, 
unforced,  yet  dignified  self-possession,  are  in  all  her 
deportment,  and  in  every  word  she  utters.  She  is  one 
of  those  characters  of  whom  it  has  been  said  prover- 
bially that  "  still  waters  run  deep."  Her  passions  are  not 
vehement,  but  in  her  settled  mind  the  sources  of  pain  or 
pleasure,  love  or  resentment,  are  like  the  springs  that 
feed  the  mountain  lakes,  impenetrable,  unfathomable,  and 
inexhaustible.     .     .     . 

She   receives   the    first   intimation   of   her   husband's 


Comments  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

jealous  suspicions  with  incredulous  astonishment.  It  is 
not  that,  like  Desdemona,  she  does  not  or  cannot  under- 
stand ;  but  she  zcill*  not.  When  he  accuses  her  more 
plainly,  she  replies  with  a  calm  dignity : — 

"  Should  a  villain  say  so, 
The  most  replenish'd  villain  in  the  world, 
He  were  as  much  more  villain ;  you,  my  lord, 
Do  but  mistake." 

This  characteristic  composure  of  temper  never  for- 
sakes her;  and  yet  it  is  so  delineated  that  the  impression 
is  that  of  grandeur,  and  never  borders  upon  pride  or 
coldness:  it  is  the  fortitude  of  a  gentle  but  a  strong 
mind,  conscious  of  its  own  innocence.  Nothing  can  be 
more  affecting  than  her  calm  reply  to  Leontes,  who,  in 
his  jealous  rage,  heaps  insult  upon  insult,  and  accuses 
her  before  her  own  attendants  as  no  better  "  than  one 
of  those  to  whom  the  vulgar  give  bold  titles  " : — 

"  How  will  this  grieve  you. 
When  you  shall  come  to  clearer  knowledge,  that 
You  have  thus  publish'd  me !     Gentle  my  lord. 
You  scarce  can  right  me  throughly  then  to  say 
You  did  mistake." 

Her  mild  dignity  and  saint-like  patience,  combined  as 
they  are  with  the  strongest  sense  of  the  cruel  injustice 
of  her  husband,  thrill  us  with  admiration  as  well  as  pity; 
and  we  cannot  but  see  and  feel  that  for  Hermione  to  give 
way  to  tears  and  feminine  complaints  under  such  a  blow, 
would  be  quite  incompatible  with  the  character.     .     .     . 

The  character  of  Heimione  is  considered  open  to  crit- 
icism on  one  point.  I  have  heard  it  remarked  that  when 
she  secludes  herself  from  the  world  for  sixteen  years, 
during  which  time  she  is  mourned  as  dead  by  her  re- 
pentant husband,  and  is  not  won  to  relent  from  her  re- 
solve by  his  sorrow,  his  remorse,  his  constancy  to  her 
memory — such  conduct,  argues  the  critic,  is  unfeeling 
as  it  is  inconceivable  in  a  tender  and  virtuous  woman. 
Would  Imogen  have  done  so,  who  is  so  generously  ready 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Comments 

to  grant  a  pardon  before  it  be  asked?  or  Desdemona, 
who  does  not  forgive  because  she  cannot  even  resent? 
No,  assuredly;  but  this  is  only  another  proof  of  the  won- 
derful delicacy  and  consistency  with  which  Shakspeare 
has  discriminated  the  characters  of  all  three.  The  inci- 
dent of  Hermione's  supposed  death  and  concealment  for 
sixteen  years  is  not  indeed  very  probable  in  itself,  nor 
very  likely  to  occur  in  every-day  life.  But,  besides  all 
the  probability  necessary  for  the  purposes  of  poetry,  it 
has  all  the  likelihood  it  can  derive  from  the  peculiar  char- 
acter of  Hermione,  who  is  precisely  the  woman  who 
could  and  would  have  acted  in  this  manner.  In  such  a 
mind  as  hers,  the  sense  of  a  cruel  injury,  inflicted  by  one 
she  had  loved  and  trusted,  without  awakening  any  vio- 
lent anger  or  any  desire  of  vengeance,  would  sink  deep- 
almost  incurably  and  lastingly  deep.  So  far  she  is  most 
unlike  either  Imogen  or  Desdemona,  who  are  portrayed 
as  much  more  flexible  in  temper;  but  then  the  circum- 
stances under  which  she  is  wronged  are  very  different, 
and  far  more  unpardonable.  The  self-created,  frantic 
jealousy  of  Leontes  is  very  distinct  from  that  of  Othello, 
writhing  under  the  arts  of  lago:  or  that  of  Posthumus, 
whose  understanding  has  been  cheated  by  the  most 
damning  evidence  of  his  wife's  infidelity.  The  jealousy 
which  in  Othello  and  Posthumus  is  an  error  of  judge- 
ment, in  Leontes  is  a  vice  of  the  blood;  he  suspects 
without  cause,  condemns  without  proof;  he  is  without 
excuse — unless  the  mixture  of  pride,  passion,  and  imag- 
ination, and  the  predisposition  to  jealousy,  with  which 
Shakspeare  has  portrayed  him,  be  considered  as  an  ex- 
cuse. Hermione  has  been  openly  insulted:  he  to  whom 
she  gave  herself,  her  heart,  her  soul,  has  stooped  to  the 
weakness  and  baseness  of  suspicion;  has  doubted  her 
truth,  has  wronged  her  love,  has  sunk  in  her  esteem, 
and  forfeited  her  confidence.  She  has  been  branded 
with  vile  names;  her  son,  her  eldest  hope,  is  dead — dead 
through  the  false  accusation  which  has  stuck  infamy  on 
his  mother's  name;   and  her  innocent  babe,  stained  with 

II 


Comments  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

illegitimacy,  disowned  and  rejected,  has  been  exposed  to 
a  cruel  death.  Can  we  believe  that  the  mere  tardy  ac- 
knowledgement of  her  innocence  could  make  amends  for 
wrongs  and  agonies  such  as  these?  or  heal  a  heart  which 
must  have  bled  inwardly,  consumed  by  that  untold  grief 
"  which  burns  worse  than  tears  drown  "  ?  Keeping  in 
view  the  peculiar  character  of  Hermione,  such  as  she  is 
delineated,  is  she  one  either  to  forgive  hastily  or  forget 
quickly?  and  though  she  might,  in  her  solitude,  mourn 
over  her  repentant  husband,  would  his  repentance  suf- 
fice to  restore  him  at  once  to  his  place  in  her  heart; 
to  efface  from  her  strong  and  reflecting  mind  the  recol- 
lection of  his  miserable  weakness?  or  can  we  fancy  this 
high-souled  woman — left  childless  through  the  injury 
which  has  been  inflicted  on  her,  widowed  in  heart  by  the 
unworthiness  of  him  she  loved,  a  spectacle  of  grief  to  all, 
to  her  husband  a  continual  reproach  and  humiliation — 
walking  through  the  parade  of  royalty  in  the  court  which 
had  witnessed  her  anguish,  her  shame,  her  degradation, 
and  her  despair?  ]\Iethinks  that  the  want  of  feeling, 
nature,  delicacy,  and  consistency  would  lie  in  such  an 
exhibition  as  this.  In  a  mind  like  Hermione's,  where 
the  strength  of  feeling  is  founded  in  the  power  of 
thought,  and  where  there  is  little  of  impulse  or  imagina- 
tion— "  the  depth,  but  not  the  tumult,  of  the  soul  " — 
there  are  but  two  influences  which  predominate  over  the 
will — time  and  religion.  And  what  then  remained  but 
that,  wounded  in  heart  and  spirit,  she  should  retire  from 
the  world? — not  to  brood  over  her  wrongs,  but  to  study 
forgiveness,  and  wait  the  fulfilment  of  the  oracle  which 
had  promised  the  termination  of  her  sorrows.  Thus  a 
premature  reconciliation  would  not  only  have  been  pain- 
fully inconsistent  with  the  character;  it  would  also  have 
deprived  us  of  that  most  beautiful  scene  in  which  Her- 
mione is  discovered  to  her  husband  as  the  statue  or 
image  of  herself.  And  here  we  have  another  instance  of 
that  admirable  art  with  which  the  dramatic  character  is 
fitted  to  the  circumstances  in  which  it  is  placed :   that  per- 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Comments 

feet  command  over  her  own  feelings,  that  complete  self- 
possession  necessary  to  this  extraordinary  situation,  is 
consistent  with  all  that  we  imagine  of  Hermione;  in  any 
other  woman  it  would  be  so  incredible  as  to  shock  all 
our  ideas  of  probability. 

This  scene,  then,  is  not  only  one  of  the  most  pic- 
turesque and  striking  instances  of  stage  efifect  to  be  found 
in  the  ancient  or  modern  drama,  but  by  the  skilful  man- 
ner in  which  it  is  prepared,  it  has,  wonderful  as  it  ap- 
pears, all  the  merit  of  consistency  and  truth.  The  grief, 
the  love,  the  remorse  and  impatience  of  Leontes,  are 
finely  contrasted  with  the  astonishment  and  admiration 
of  Perdita,  who,  gazing  on  the  figure  of  her  mother  like 
one  entranced,  looks  as  if  she  were  also  turned  to  marble. 
There  is  here  one  little  instance  of  tender  remembrance 
in  Leontes,  which  adds  to  the  charming  impression  of 
Hermione's  character: — 

"  Chide  me,  dear  stone !  that  I  may  say  indeed 
Thou  art  Hermione;  or  rather  thou  art  she 
In  thy  not  chiding,  for  she  was  as  tender 
As  infancy  and  grace." 

"  Thus  she  stood, 
Even  with  such  life  of  majesty — warm  life — 
As  now  it  coldly  stands — when  first  I  woo'd  her !  " 

The  effect  produced  on  the  different  persons  of  the 
drama  by  this  Hving  statue — an  effect  which  at  the  same 
moment  is  and  is  not  illusion — the  manner  in  which  the 
feelings  of  the  spectators  become  entangled  between 
the  conviction  of  death  and  the  impression  of  life,  the 
idea  of  a  deception  and  the  feeling  of  a  reality;  and 
the  exquisite  colouring  of  poetry  and  touches  of  natural 
feeling  with  which  the  whole  is  wrought  up,  till  wonder, 
expectation,  and  intense  pleasure  hold  our  pulse  and 
breath  suspended  on  the  event — are  quite  inimitable. 
Mrs.  Jameson  :  Characteristics  of  Women, 

13 


Comments  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

III. 
Perdita. 

In  Viola  and  Perdita  the  distinguishing  traits  are  the 
same — sentiment  and  elegance;  thus  we  associate  them 
together,  though  nothing  can  be  more  distinct  to  the 
fancy  than  the  Doric  grace  of  Perdita,  compared  to  the 
romantic  sweetness  of  Viola.  They  are  created  out  of 
the  same  materials,  and  are  equal  to  each  other  in  ten- 
derness, delicacy,  and  poetical  beauty  of  the  conception. 
They  are  both  more  imaginative  than  passionate;  but 
Perdita  is  the  more  imaginative  of  the  two.  She  is  the 
union  of  the  pastoral  and  romantic  with  the  classical  and 
poetical,  as  if  a  dryad  of  the  woods  had  turned  shepherd- 
ess. The  perfections  with  which  the  Poet  has  so  lavishly 
endowed  her,  sit  upon  her  with  .a  certain  careless  and 
picturesque  grace,  *'  as  though  they  had  fallen  upon  her 
unawares."  Thus  Belphoebe,  in  the  Fairy  Queen,  issues 
from  the  flowering  forest  with  hair  and  garments  all 
besprinkled  with  leaves  and  blossoms  they  had  entangled 
in  their  flight ;  and  so  arrayed  by  chance  and  "  heedless 
hap,"  takes  all  hearts  with  "  stately  presence  and  with 
princely  port  " — most  like  to  Perdita! 

The  story  of  Florizel  and  Perdita  is  but  an  episode  in 
The  Winter's  Tale,  and  the  character  of  Perdita  is  prop- 
erly kept  subordinate  to  that  of  her  mother,  Hermione ; 
yet  the  picture  is  perfectly  finished  in  every  part;  Juliet 
herself  is  not  more  firmly  and  distinctly  drawn.  But 
the  colouring  in  Perdita  is  more  silvery  light  and  deli- 
cate; the  pervading  sentiment  more  touched  with  the 
ideal.     .     .     . 

The  qualities  which  impart  to  Perdita  her  distinct  indi- 
viduality are  the  beautiful  combination  of  the  pastoral 
with  the  elegant — of  simplicity  with  elevation — of  spirit 
with  sweetness.  The  exquisite  delicacy  of  the  picture  is 
apparent.  To  understand  and  appreciate  its  effective 
truth  and  nature,  we  should  place  Perdita  beside  some 

14 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Comments 

of  the  nymphs  of  Arcadia,  or  the  Chlorises  and  Sylvias 
of  the  ItaHan  pastorals,  who,  however  graceful  in  them- 
selves, when  opposed  to  Perdita  seem  to  melt  away  into 
mere  poetical  abstractions ;  as,  in  Spenser,  the  fair  but 
fictitious  Florimel,  which  the  subtle  enchantress  had 
moulded  out  of  snow,  "  vermeil-tinctured,"  and  informed 
with  an  airy  spirit  that  knew  "  all  wiles  of  woman's 
wits,"  fades  and  dissolves  away,  when  placed  next  to  the 
real  Florimel,  in  her  warm,  breathing,  human  loveliness. 
Perdita  does  not  appear  till  the  fourth  act,  and  the 
whole  of  the  character  is  developed  in  the  course  of  a 
single  scene  (the  fourth)  with  a  completeness  of  effect 
which  leaves  nothing  to  be  required — nothing  to  be  sup- 
plied. She  is  first  introduced  in  the  'dialogue  between 
herself  and  Florizel,  where  she  compares  her  own  lowly 
state  to  his  princely  rank,  and  expresses  her  fears  of 
the  issue  of  their  unequal  attachment.  With  all  her  tim- 
idity and  her  sense  of  the  distance  which  separates  her 
from  her  lover,  she  breathes  not  a  single  word  which 
could  lead  us  to  impugn  either  her  delicacy  or  her  dig- 
nity. 

Mrs.  Jameson  :  Characteristics  of  Women. 

IV. 

Leontes. 

Leontes  is  chiefly  afifected  by  the  insult  of  the  fate 
that  he  stupidly  and  groundlessly  hugs  to  himself.  He 
thinks  not — not  he,  of  the  pity  of  the  supposed  fall  of  so 
complete  a  paragon,  but  pursues  her  as  an  enemy  with 
rancorous  and  publicly  proclaimed  animosity.  Such 
temper  shows  most  grossly  when  the  object  of  it  is  a 
lady  whose  nature  is  not  only  alien  to  such  falsehood 
but  unsuggestive  of  it — a  lady  who  with  clear  and  steady 
intellectual  light  illuminates  every  perversity  in  her  hus- 
band's course.  Had  the  victim  of  Leontes  been  a  wife  in 
whom  conjugal  affectionateness  and  not  matronly  dignity 

15 


Comments  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

and  the  grace  and  pride  of  motherhood  prevailed,  his  con- 
duct would  have  seemed  too  intolerably  brutal  for  any 
reconciliation,  and  the  reuniting  link  of  common  parental 
affection  would  have  been  wanting,  to  render  it  accepta- 
ble to  our  sympathies  and  convictions.  Neither  would 
it  have  been  natural  for  such  a  heart  to  have  remained  in 
seclusion  so  long,  feeding  on  the  hope  of  a  daughter's 
recovery,  nor  brooding  over  the  lost  love  of  her  hus- 
band. Desdemona,  affectionate  and  devoted,  is  the  ob- 
ject of  love  of  a  husband  whose  bitterest  trial  in  jealousy, 
sensitive  as  he  is  in  honour,  is  still  the  loss  of  her  trusted 
and  tender  heart.  The  submissive  love  of  Desdemona 
faints  into  a  tint  of  the  weakness  that  invites  misfortune, 
and  is  the  worst  of  all  fatalities;  the  graceful  majesty  of 
Hermione  is  inclined  to  the  side  of  sober  self-command, 
and  for  this,  when  attempered  with  tenderness  and  truth, 
fortune  has  ever  in  reserve  a  happiness  at  last. 
Lloyd  :   Critical  Essays  on  the  Plays  of  Shakespeare. 


The  most  remarkable  stroke  of  genius  in  this  play  of 
Shakespeare  is  that  he  turned  only  into  a  comedy  a 
subject  which  could  furnish  the  most  sombre  of  trag- 
edies. He  understood  admirably  that  however  violent 
and  tragic  were  the  acts,  such  a  character  would 
be  necessarily  comic.  Indeed,  so  comic,  that  it  is  exactly 
the  one  which  our  Moliere  has  drawn  in  Sganarelle,  ou 
le  Cocu  imaginaire.  Leontes  is  formidable  otherwise  than 
the  poor  bourgeois  of  Aloliere,  for  his  folly  is  sup- 
plied with  far  different  means  of  action;  but  they  are 
brothers,  if  not  in  rank  yet  in  nature,  and  their  souls 
plunge  into  the  same  grotesque  element. 

MoNTEGUT :  CEiivrcs  completes  de  Shakespeare. 


i6 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Comments 

V. 
Leontes  and  Othello  Contrasted. 

The  idea  of  this  deHghtful  drama  is  a  genuine  jealousy 
of  disposition,  and  it  should  be  immediately  followed  by 
the  perusal  of  Othello,  which  is  the  direct  contrast  of  it 
in  every  particular.  For  jealousy  is  a  vice  of  the  mind, 
a  culpable  tendency  of  the  temper,  having  certain  well- 
known  and  well-defined  eiTects  and  concomitants,  all 
of  which  are  visible  in  Leontes,  and,  I  boldly  say,  not 
one  of  which  marks  its  presence  in  Othello; — such  as, 
first,  an  excitability  by  the  most  inadequate  causes,  and 
an  eagerness  to  snatch  at  proofs ;  secondly,  a  grossness  of 
conception,  and  a  disposition  to  degrade  the  object  of 
the  passion  by  sensual  fancies  and  images;  thirdly,  a 
sense  of  shame  of  his  own  feelings  exhibited  in  a  solitary 
moodiness  of  humour,  and  yet  from  the  violence  of  the 
passion  forced  to  utter  itself,  and  therefore  catching 
occasions  to  ease  the  mind  by  ambiguities,  equivoques, 
by  talking  to  those  who  cannot,  and  who  are  known 
not  to  be  able  to,  understand  what  is  said  to  them — in 
short,  by  soliloquy  in  the  form  of  dialogue,  and  hence  a 
confused,  broken,  and  fragmentary  manner;  fourthly, 
a  dread  of  vulgar  ridicule,  as  distinct  from  a  high  sense 
of  honour,  or  a  mistaken  sense  of  duty;  and  lastly,  and 
immediately,  consequent  on  this,  a  spirit  of  selfish  vin- 
dictiveness. 

Coleridge:  Notes  and  Lectures  tipon  Shakespeare. 


In  The  Winter's  Tale,  the  jealousy  of  Leontes  is  not 
less,  but  more  fierce  and  unjust,  than  that  of  Othello. 
No  lago  whispers  poisonous  suspicion  in  Leontes'  ear. 
His  wife  is  not  untried,  nor  did  she  yield  to  him  her  heart 
with  the  sweet  proneness  of  Desdemona : — 

"  Three  crabbed  months  had  sour'd  themselves,  to  death 
Ere  I  could  make  thee  open  thy  white  hand, 
And  clap  thyself  my  love;  then  didst  thou  utter     . 
'  I  am  yours  forever.'  " 

17 


Comments  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Hermione  is  suspected  of  sudden  and  shameless  dis- 
honour— she  who  is  a  matron,  the  mother  of  Leontes' 
children,  a  woman  of  serious  and  sweet  dignity  of  char- 
acter, inured  to  a  noble  self-command,  and  frank  only 
through  the  consciousness  of  invulnerable  loyalty.  The 
passion  of  Leontes  is  not,  like  that  of  Othello,  a  terrible 
chaos  of  soul — confusion  and  despair  at  the  loss  of  what 
had  been  to  him  the  fairest  thing  on  earth ;  there  is  a 
gross  personal  resentment  in  the  heart  of  Leontes,  not 
sorrowful,  judicial  indignation ;  his  passion  is  hideously 
grotesque,  while  that  of  Othello  is  pathetic. 

The  consequences  of  this  jealous  madness  of  Leontes 
are  less  calamitous  than  the  ruin  wrought  by  Othello's 
jealousy,  because  Hermione  is  courageous  and  collected, 
and  possessed  of  a  fortitude  of  heart  which  years  of  suf- 
fering are  unable  to  subdue: — 

"  There  's  some  ill  planet  reigns; 
^  I  must  be  patient  till  the  heavens  look 

With  an  aspect  more  favourable.     Good  my  lords, 
I  am  not  prone  to  weeping,  as  our  sex 
Commonly  are ;  the  want  of  which  vain  dew 
Perchance  shall  dry  your  pities ;  but  I  have 
That  honourable  grief  lodged  here,  which  burns 
Worse  than  tears  drown.     Beseech  you  all,  my  lords, 
With  thoughts  so  qualified  as  your  charities 
Shall  best  instruct  you,  measure  me;  and  so 
The  king's  will  be  performed!  " 

But  although  the  wave  of  calamity  is  broken  by  the  firm 
resistance  offered  by  the  fortitude  of  Hermione,  it  com- 
mits ravage  enough  to  make  it  remembered.  Upon 
the  Queen  comes  a  lifetime  of  solitude  and  pain.  The 
hopeful  son  of  Leontes  and  Hermione  is  done  to  death, 
and  the  infant  Perdita  is  estranged  from  her  kindred 
and  her  friends.  But  at  length  the  heart  of  Leontes  is 
instructed  and  purified  by  anguish  and  remorse.  He 
has  "  performed  a  saint-like  sorrow,"  redeemed  his  faults, 
paid  down  more  penitence  than  done  trespass: — 

i8 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Comments 

"  Whilst  I  remember 
Her  and  her  virtues,  I  cannot  forget 
My  blemishes  in  them,  and  so  still  think  of 
The  wrong  I  did  myself;  which  was  so  much 
That  heirless  it  hath  made  my  kingdom,  and 
Destroy'd  the  sweet'st  companion  that  e'er  man 
Bred  his  hopes  out  of." 

And  Leontes  is  received  back  without  reproach  into  vhe 
arms  of  his  wife;  she  embraces  him  in  silence,  allowing 
the  good  pain  of  his  repentance  to  effect  its  utmost  work. 

DowDEN :  Shakspcrc. 

VI. 

Mamillius. 

The  wild  wind  of  The  Winter  s  Tale  at  its  opening 
would  seem  to  blow  us  back  into  a  wintrier  world  in- 
deed. And  to  the  ver}^  end  I  must  confess  that  I  have 
in  me  so  much  of  the  spirit  of  Rachel  weeping  in  Ramah 
as  will  not  be  comforted  because  Mamillius  is  not.  It 
is  well  for  those  whose  hearts  are  light  enough,  to  take 
perfect  comfort  even  in  the  substitution  of  his  sister 
Perdita  for  the  boy  who  died  of  "  thoughts  high  for  one 
so  tender."  Even  the  beautiful  suggestion  that  Shake- 
speare as  he  wrote  had  in  mind  his  own  dead  little  son 
still  fresh  and  living  at  his  heart  can  hardly  add  more 
than  a  touch  of  additional  tenderness  to  our  perfect  and 
piteous  delight  in  him.  And  even  in  her  daughter's 
embrace  it  seems  hard  if  his  mother  should  have  utterly 
forgotten  the  little  voice  that  had  only  time  to  tell  her 
just  eight  words  of  that  ghost  story  which  neither  she 
nor  we  were  ever  to  hear  ended. 

Swinburne:  A  Study  of  Shakespeare. 

VII. 
Autolycus. 

The  clowns'  heads  are  full  of  the  prices  of  wool;  they 
have  no  thought  for  roses  and  nightingales,  and  their 


Comments  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

simplicity  is  rather  comical  than  touching.  They  are 
more  than  overmatched  by  the  light-fingered  Autolycus, 
who  educates  them  by  means  of  ballads,  and  eases  them 
of  their  purses  at  the  same  time.  He  is  a  Jack-of-all- 
trades,  has  travelled  the  country  with  a  monkey,  been 
a  process-server,  bailiff,  and  servant  to  Prince  Florizel; 
he  has  gone  about  wuth  a  puppet-show  playing  the  Prod- 
igal Son ;  finally,  he  marries  a  tinker's  wife  and  settles 
down  as  a  confirmed  rogue.  He  is  the  clown  of  the 
piece — roguish,  genial,  witty,  and  always  master  of  the 
situation.  In  spite  of  the  fact  that  Shakespeare  seized 
every  opportunity  to  flout  the  lower  classes,  that  he 
always  gave  a  satirical  and  repellent  picture  of  them  as  a 
mass,  yet  their  natural  wit,  good  sense,  and  kind-heart- 
edness are  always  portrayed  in  his  clowns  with  a  sympa- 
thetic touch.  Before  his  time,  the  buffoon  was  never 
an  inherent  part  of  the  play;  he  came  on  and  danced  his 
jig  without  any  connection  with  the  plot,  and  was,  in 
fact,  merely  intended  to  amuse  the  uneducated  portion 
of  the  audience  and  make  them  laugh.  Shakespeare 
was  the  first  to  incorporate  him  into  the  plot,  and  to 
endow  him,  not  merely  with  the  jester's  wit,  but  with  the 
higher  faculties  and  feelings  of  the  Fool  in  Lear,  or  the 
gay  humour  of  the  vagabond  pedlar,  Autolycus. 

Brandes:   William  Shakespeare. 


VIII. 
Paulina. 

Among  Shakespeare's  additions  in  the  first  part  of  the 
play  we  find  the  characters  of  the  noble  and  resolute 
Paulina  and  her  weakly  good-natured  husband.  Paulina 
.  .  .  is  one  of  the  most  admirable  and  original  figures 
he  has  put  upon  the  stage.  She  has  more  courage  than 
ten  men,  and  possesses  that  natural  eloquence  and  power 
of  pathos  which  determined  honesty  and  sound  common 

20 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Comments 

sense  can  bestow  upon  a  woman.  She  would  go 
through  fire  and  water  for  the  queen  whom  she  loves 
and  trusts.  She  is  untouched  by  sentimentality ;  there  is 
as  little  of  the  erotic  as  there  is  of  repugnance  in  her 
attitude  towards  her  husband.  Her  treatment  of  the 
king's  jealous  frenzy  reminds  us  of  Emilia  in  Othello, 
but  the  resemblance  ends  there.  In  Paulina  there  is  a 
vein  of  that  rare  metal  which  we  only  find  in  excellent 
women  of  this  not  essentially  feminine  type.  We  meet 
it  again  in  the  nineteenth  century  in  the  character  of 
Christiana  Oehlenschlager  as  we  see  it  in  Hauch's  beau- 
tiful commemorative  poem. 

Brandes  :  William  Shakespeare. 

IX. 

Camillo. 

In  the  case  of  Camillo  wx  trace  a  line  of  prudence 
darkening  almost  into  duplicity,  that  permeates  the  very 
purest  and  most  single-hearted  of  natures.  His  virtue, 
which  is  his  character,  is  the  very  growth  of  the  trying 
circumstances  by  which  he  is  surrounded.  He  is  frank 
and  bold  to  the  fullest  extent  that  is  consistent  with  pru- 
dence and  usefulness;  he  carries  prudence  and  manage- 
ment to  the  fullest  extent  that  consists  with  self-respect 
and  honour.  In  truth  he  is  as  virtuous  and  direct  as  a 
man  can  be  who  is  fain  to  live  among  the  hard  conditions 
of  a  court,  and  this  perhaps  is  as  much  as  to  say  that 
Autolycus  retains  as  much  rectitude  as  a  pedlar  may  who 
is  tempted  by  dupes  thrice  over,  and  not  often  has  the 
chance  of  evincing  a  leaning  to  virtue  by  taking  her  bid 
when  roguery  only  makes  an  equal  offer.  But  this  is 
unfair  to  Camillo,  though  it  might  be  so  to  few  others, 
and  we  must  approve  and  admire  the  sagacity  with  which 
he  proves  the  strength  of  unreasoning  prejudice,  and 
hoodwinks  and  eludes  the  power  he  can  neither  disabuse 

21 


Comments  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

nor  contend  against.  This  is  the  wisdom  that  ere  now 
has  saved  a  nation  as  it  saves  the  fortunes  of  the  play, 
but  may  the  world  soon  lack  those  tyrannous  necessities 
that  reduce  the  best  virtue  practicable  so  nearly  to  the 
equivocal. 

Lloyd  :  Critical  Essays  on  the  Plays  of  Shakespeare. 


Antigonus  Compared  with  Camillo. 

In  the  very  first  words  Antigonus  utters,  Shakespeare 
shows  him  to  us  in  thorough  contrast  with  Camillo.  By 
the  mere  word  justice  Antigonus  admits  the  possibility 
that  Hermione  may  be  guilty;  while  Camillo,  from  first 
to  last,  feels  the  impossibility  of  her  guilt.  Antigonus 
at  once  proclaims  himself  a  courtier,  the  man  who  points 
out  to  his  royal  master  the  expediency  and  policy  of 
what  he  is  about  to  do  as  touches  his  own  person,  his 
consort,  and  his  heir-apparent;  Camillo  is  the  faithful 
counsellor,  the  honest  friend,  the  loyal  servant,  who 
strives  to  preserve  the  intrinsic  honour  of  his  king,  rather 
than  to  maintain  himself  in  his  favour.  Not  only  are 
these  two  characters  finely  distinguished  in  their  delinea- 
tion, the  one  from  the  other,  but  they  are  most  dramat- 
ically framed  for  and  adapted  to  the  exigencies  of  the 
parts  they  are  destined  to  fill  in  the  progress  of  the  plot. 
Camillo,  with  his  honourable  nature  and  integrity  of  pur- 
pose, becomes  the  ultimate  bond  of  reconciliation  and 
union  between  the  two  kings  and  their  respective  chil- 
dren; while  Antigonus,  with  his  courtier  pliancy  and 
lack  of  earnest  faith — having  a  glimpse  of  the  better,  yet 
following  the  worse,  path — becomes  the  agent  for  the 
king's  cruelty  to  his  infant  daughter,  and  loses  his  own 
life  in  the  unworthy  act. 

Clarke  :  Casscirs  Illustrated  Shakespeare. 

2.2. 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Comments 

XI. 

Conspectus. 

Shakespeare  has  treated  Greene's  narrative  in  the  way 
he  has  usually  dealt  with  his  bad  originals — he  has  done 
away  with  some  indelicacy  in  the  matter,  and  some  unnat- 
ural things  in  the  form;  he  has  given  a  better  foundation 
to  the  characters  and  course  of  events;  but  to  impart  an 
intrinsic  value  to  the  subject  as  a  whole,  to  bring  a 
double  action  into  unity,  and  to  give  to  the  play  the 
character  of  a  regular  drama  by  mere  arrangements  of 
matter  and  alteration  of  motive  was  not  possible.  The 
wildness  of  the  fiction,  the  improbability  and  contingency 
of  the  events,  the  gap  in  the  time  which  divides  the  two 
actions  between  two  generations,  could  not  be  repaired 
by  any  art.  Shakespeare,  therefore,  began  upon  his 
theme  in  quite  an  opposite  direction.  He  increased  still 
more  the  marvellous  and  miraculous  in  the  given  subject, 
he  disregarded  more  and  more  the  requirements  of  the 
real  and  probable,  and  treated  time,  place,  and  circum- 
stances with  the  utmost  arbitrariness.  He  added  the 
character  of  Antigonus  and  his  death  by  the  bear,  Pau- 
lina and  her  second  marriage  in  old  age,  the  pretended 
death  and  the  long  forbearance  and  preservation  of  Her- 
mione,  Autolycus  and  his  cunning  tricks,  and  he  in- 
creased thereby  the  improbable  circumstances  and 
strange  incidents.  He  overleaped  all  limits,  mixing  up 
together  Russian  emperors  and  the  Delphic  oracle  and 
Julio  Romano,  chivalry  and  heathendom,  ancient  forms 
of  religion  and  Whitsuntide  pastorals. 

Gervinus:  Shakespeare  Commentaries. 

It  is  easily  seen  that  here,  in  contrast  to  As  You  Like  It, 
the  general  foundation  and  plan  of  the  whole — the  jeal- 
ousy of  Leontes,  the  exposure  of  the  infant,  the  seclusion 
of  the  Queen  and  the  repentance  of  her  husband,  the  young 
Prince's  love  for  the  exceedingly  beautiful  shepherdess, 

23 


Comments  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

etc. — although  unusual,  are  nevertheless  in  accordance 
with  reality;  the  characters,  also,  are  consistently  devel- 
oped, without  sudden  changes  and  psychological  im- 
probabilities. Individual  features,  however,  are  all  the 
more  fantastic.  We  have  here  the  full  sway  of  accident 
and  caprice  in  the  concatenation  of  events,  circumstances 
and  relations;  everything  is  removed  from  common  ex- 
perience. Not  only  is  Delphos  spoken  of  as  an  ''  island  " 
and  Bohemia  as  a  maritime  country  (local  reality,  there- 
fore, disregarded),  but  the  reality  of  time  also  is  com- 
pletely set  aside,  inasmuch  as  the  Delphic  oracle  is  made 
to  exist  contemporaneously  with  Russian  emperors  and 
the  great  painter  Julio  Romano;  in  fact,  the  heroic  age 
and  the  times  of  chivalry,  the  ancient  customs  of  mythical 
religion  and  Christianity  with  its  institutions  are  brought 
together  sans  ceremonic.  It  is  a  matter  of  accident  that 
the  death  of  the  Crown  Prince  is  announced  simultane- 
ously with  the  utterance  of  the  oracle,  and  that  the  condi- 
tion of  the  Queen  appears  like  actual  death.  It  is  purely 
an  accident  that  the  babe  is  saved  at  the  very  moment 
that  the  nobleman  who  exposed  it  is  torn  to  pieces  by  a 
bear,  and  that  his  ship,  with  all  on  board,  is  lost,  so  that 
no  tidings  could  be  carried  back  to  Sicilia.  It  is  mere 
accident  that  the  young  Prince  of  Bohemia  strays  into 
woods  and  meets  the  shepherds  with  whom  the  Princess 
is  living.  In  the  end  similar  freaks  of  chance  repair  the 
results  of  the  first  accidents,  bring  all  the  dramatic  per- 
sonages together  in  Sicilia,  put  everything  into  its  proper 
order,  and  bring  about  a  happy  conclusion.  As,  there- 
fore, the  unreal,  the  fantastic  is  here  expressed  in  indi- 
vidual features  rather  than  in  the  general  fundamental 
relations  of  the  play,  so  it  is  also  more  the  interaction  of 
external  matters  of  chance  that  govern  the  whole  and 
solve  the  contradiction  of  opinions  and  intentions,  of 
deeds  and  events;  thus,  in  spite  of  all  the  apparent  im- 
possibilities, that  which  is  rational  and  right  is  ultimately 
brought  about. 

Ulrici  :  Shakspeare's  Dramatic  Art. 

24 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Comments 

Besides  the  ripe  comedy,  characteristic  of  Shakespeare 
at  his  latest,  which  indeed  harmonizes  admirably  with 
the  idyl  of  love  to  which  it  serves  as  background,  there 
is  also  a  harsh  exhibition,  in  Leontes,  of  the  meanest  of 
the  passions,  an  insane  jealousy,  petty  and  violent  as  the 
man  who  nurses  it.  For  sheer  realism,  for  absolute  in- 
sight into  the  most  cobwebbed  corners  of  our  nature, 
Shakespeare  has  rarely  surpassed  this  brief  study,  which, 
in  its  total  effect,  does  but  throw  out  in  brightier  reUef 
the  noble  qualities  of  the  other  actors  beside  him,  the 
pleasant  qualities  of  the  play  they  make  by  their  acting. 
Symons  :  Henry  Irving  Shakespeare. 


DRAMATIS   PERSONAE. 

Leontes,  king  of  Sicilia. 

Mamillius^  young  prince  of  Sicilia. 

Camillo^       ^ 

Antigonus,   I 

Cleomenes,    r  f^""'  ^^'^'  ^f  ^'''^'^' 

Dion,  J 

PoLiXENES,  king  of  Bohemia. 

Florizel,  Prince  of  Bohemia. 

Archidamus,  a  Lord  of  Bohemia. 

Old  Shepherd,  reputed  father  of  Perdita: 

Clown,  his  son. 

AuTOLYCus,  a  rogue. 

A  Mariner. 

A  Gaoler. 

Hermione,  queen  to  Leontes. 

Perdita,  daughter  to  Leontes  and  Hermione. 

Paulina,  wife  to  Ant ig onus. 

Emilia,  a  lady  attending  on  Hermione. 

T~,         '    ?■  Shepherdesses. 
Dorcas,  )         ^ 

Other  Lords  and  Gentlemen,  Ladies,  Officers,  and 
Servants,  Shepherds,  and  Shepherdesses, 

Time,  as  Chorus. 

Scene  :    Partly  in  Sicilia,  and  partly  in  Bohemia. 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE. 

ACT  FIRST. 
Scene  I. 

Antechamber  in  Leontes  palace. 
Enter  Camillo  and  Archidamus. 

Arch.  If  you  shall  chance,  Camillo,  to  visit  Bohemia, 
on  the  like  occasion  whereon  my  services  are 
now  on  foot,  you  shall  see,  as  I  have  said,  great 
difference  betwixt  our  Bohemia  and  your  Sicilia. 

Cam.  I  think,  this  coming  summer,  the  King  of 
Sicilia  means  to  pay  Bohemia  the  visitation 
which  he  justly  owes  him. 

Arch.  Wherein  our  entertainment  shall  shame  us  we 
will  be  justified  in  our  loves;    for  indeed — 

Cam.  Beseech  yow, —  lo 

Arch.  Verily,  I  speak  it  in  the  freedom  of  my  know- 
ledge :  we  cannot  with  such  magnificence — in  so 
rare — I  know  not  what  to  say.  We  will  give 
you  sleepy  drinks,  that  your  senses,  unintelli- 
gent of  our  insufficience,  may,  though  they  can- 
not praise  us,  as  little  accuse  us. 

Cam.  You  pay  a  great  deal  too  dear  for  what 's 
given  freely. 

Arch,  Believe   me,    I    speak    as   my   understanding 

instructs  me,   and  as  mine  honesty  puts  it  to     20 
utterance. 

Cam.  Sicilia  cannot  show  himself  over-kind  to  Bohemia. 

27 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

They  were  trained  together  in  their  child- 
hoods ;  and  there  rooted  betwixt  them  then  such 
an  affection,  which  cannot  choose  but  branch 
now.  Since  their  more  mature  dignities  and 
royal  necessities  made  separation  of  their  so- 
ciety, their  encounters,  though  not  personal, 
have  been  royally  attorneyed  with  interchange  of 
gifts,  letters,  loving  embassies ;  that  they  have  30 
seemed  to  be  together,  though  absent ;  shook 
hands,  as  over  a  vast ;  and  embraced,  as  it  were, 
from  the  ends  of  opposed  winds.  The  heavens 
continue  their  loves ! 

Arch.  I  think  there  is  not  in  the  world  either  malice 
or  matter  to  alter  it.  You  have  an  unspeakable 
comfort  of  your  young  prince  Mamillius :  it  is 
a  gentleman  of  the  greatest  promise  that  ever 
came  into  my  note. 

Cam.  I  very  well  agree  with  you  in  the  hopes  of     40 
him :    it   is   a   gallant   child ;    one   that   indeed 
physics   the   subject,    makes    old   hearts    fresh: 
they  that   went   on   crutches   ere  he   was   bom 
desire  yet  their  life  to  see  him  a  man. 

Arch.  Would  they  else  be  content  to  die  ? 

Cam.  Yes ;  if  there  were  no  other  excuse  why  they 
should  desire  to  live. 

Arch.  If  the  king  had  no  son,  they  would  desire  to 
live  on  crutches  till  he  had  one. 

[Exeunt. 


28 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

Scene  II. 

A  room  of  state  in  the  same. 

Enter  Leontes,  Hermione,  Maniillius,  Polixenes,  Camillo, 
and'  Attendants. 

Pol.  Nine  changes  of  the  watery  star  hath  been 

The  shepherd's  note  since  we  have  left  our  throne 

Without  a  burthen  :  time  as  long  again 

Would  be  fiird  up,  my  brother,  with  our  thanks : 

And  yet  we  should,  for  perpetuity, 

Go  hence  in  debt :  and  therefore,  like  a  cipher. 

Yet  standing  in  rich  place,  I  multiply 

With  one  '  We  thank  you,'  many  thousands  moe 

That  go  before  it. 

Leon.  Stay  your  thanks  a  while ; 

And  pay  them  when  you  part. 

Pol.  Sir,  that 's  to-morrow.  lo 

I  am  question'd  by  my  fears,  of  what  may  chance 
Or  breed  upon  our  absence ;  that  may  blow 
No  sneaping  winds  at  home,  to  make  us  say 
'  This  is  put  forth  too  truly  ' :  besides,  I  have  stay'd 
To  tire  your  royalty. 

Leon.  We  are  tougher,  brother, 

Than  you  can  put  us  to  't. 

Pol.  No  longer  stay. 

Leon.  One  seven-night  longer. 

Pol.  Very  sooth,  to-morrow. 

Leon.  We  '11  part  the  time  between  's,  then :    and  in 
that  I  '11  no  gainsaying. 

Pol.  Press  me  not,  beseech  you,  so. 

There  is  no  tongue  that  moves,  none,  none  i'  the 
world,  20 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

So  soon  as  yours  could  win  me :   so  it  should  now, 

Were  there  necessity  in  your  request,  although 

'Twere  needful  I  denied  it.     My  affairs 

Do  even  drag  me  homeward  :  which  to  hinder 

Were  in  your  love  a  whip  to  me  ;  my  stay 

To  you  a  charge  and  trouble :  to  save  both, 

Farewell,  our  brother. 

Leon.  Tongue-tied  our  queen?   speak  you. 

Her.  I  had  thought,  sir,  to  have  held  my  peace  until 

You  had  drawn  oaths  from  him  not  to  stay.     You, 

sir. 
Charge  him  too  coldly.    Tell  him,  you  are  sure        30 
All  in  Bohemia  's  well ;   this  satisfaction 
The  by-gone  day  proclaim'd  :   say  this  to  him. 
He  's  beat  from  his  best  ward. 

Leon.  Well  said,  Hermione. 

Her.  To  tell,  he  longs  to  see  his  son,  were  strong : 
But  let  him  say  so  then,  and  let  him  go ; 
But  let  him  swear  so,  and  he  shall  not  stay. 
We  '11  thwack  him  hence  with  distaffs. 
Yet  of  your  royal  presence  I  '11  adventure 
The  borrow  of  a  week.    When  at  Bohemia 
You  take  my  lord,  I  '11  give  him  my  commission      40 
To  let  him  there  a  month  behind  the  gest 
Prefix'd  for  's  parting :   yet,  good  deed,  Leontes, 
I  love  thee  not  a  jar  o'  the  clock  behind   ' 
What  lady  she  her  lord.    You  '11  stay  ? 

Pol.  No,  madam. 

Her.  Nay,  but  you  will? 

Pol.  I  may  not,  verily. 

Her.  Verily! 

You  put  me  off  with  limber  vows  ;   but  I, 

30 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  L  Sc.  ii. 

Though  you  would  seek  to  unsphere  the  stars  with 

oaths, 
Should  yet  say,  '  Sir,  no  going.'    Verily, 
You  shall  not  go :  a  lady's  '  Verily  '  's  50 

As  potent  as  a  lord's.    Will  you  go  yet  ? 
Force  me  to  keep  you  as  a  prisoner, 
Not  like  a  guest ;   so  you  shall  pay  your  fees 
When  you  depart,  and  save  your  thanks.     How  say 

you? 
My  prisoner  ?  or  my  guest  ?  by  your  dread  '  Verily,' 
One  of  them  you  shall  be. 

Pol.  Your  guest,  then,  madam  : 

To  be  your  prisoner  should  import  offending ; 
Which  is  for  me  less  easy  to  commit 
Than  you  to  punish. 

Her.  Not  your  gaoler,  then, 

But  your  kind  hostess.    Come,  I  '11  question  you      60 
Of  my  lord's  tricks  and  yours  when  you  were  boys : 
You  were  pretty  lordings  then  ? 

Pol.  We  were,  fair  queen, 

Two  lads  that  thought  there  was  no  more  behind. 
But  such  a  day  to-morrow  as  to-day. 
And  to  be  boy  eternal. 

Her.  Was  not  my  lord 

The  verier  wag  o'  the  two  ? 

Pol.  We  were  as  twinn'd  lambs  that  did  frisk  i'  the  sun. 
And  bleat  the  one  at  the  other :   what  we  changed 
Was  innocence  for  innocence  ;  we  knew  not 
The  doctrine  of  ill-doing,  no,  nor  dream'd  70 

That  any  did.    Had  we  pursued  that  life. 
And  our  weak  spirits  ne'er  been  higher  rear'd 
With    stronger    blood,    we    should    have    answer'd 
heaven 

31 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Boldly  '  not  guilty  ' ;  the  imposition  clear'd 
Hereditary  ours. 

Her.  By  this  we  gather 

You  have  tripp'd  since. 

Pol.  O  my  most  sacred  lady 

Temptations  have  since  {hen  been  born  to's:   for 
In  those  unfledged  days  was  my  wife  a  girl ; 
Your  precious  self  had  then  not  cross'd  the  eyes 
Of  my  young  play-fellow. 

Her.  Grace  to  boot !  80 

Of  this  make  no  conclusion,  lest  you  say 
Your  queen  and  I  are  devils  :  yet  go  on  ; 
The  offences  we  have  made  you  do  we  '11  answer, 
If  you  first  sinn'd  with  us,  and  that  with  us 
You  did  continue  fault,  and  that  you  slipp'd  not 
With  any  but  with  us. 

Leon.  Is  he  won  yet? 

Her.  He  '11  stay,  my  lord. 

Leon.  At  my  request  he  would  not. 

Hermione,  my  dearest,  thou  never  spokest 
To  better  purpose. 

Her.  Never  ? 

Leon.  Never,  but  once. 

Her.  What!  have  I  twice  said  well?  when  was  't  before? 
I  prithee  tell  me  ;  cram  's  with  praise,  and  make  's  91 
As  fat  as  tame  things :  one  good  deed  dying  tongue- 
less 
Slaughters  a  thousand  waiting  iipon  that. 
Our  praises  are  our  wages :  you  may  ride  's 
With  one  soft  kiss  a  thousand  furlongs  ere 
With  spur  we  heat  an  acre.    But  to  the  goal : 
My  last  good  deed  was  to  entreat  his  stay : 
What  was  my  first  ?  it  has  an  elder  sister, 

32 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

Or  I  mistake  you:  O,  would  her  name  were  Grace! 
But  once  before  I  spoke  to  the  purpose:  when?  lOO 
Nay,  let  me  have  't;    I  long. 

Leon.  Why,  that  was  when 

Three   crabbed   months   had   sour'd  themselves   to 

death, 
Ere  I  could  make  thee  open  thy  white  hand, 
And  clap  thyself  my  love :  then  didst  thou  utter 
*  I  am  yours  for  ever.' 

Her.  'Tis  Grace  indeed. 

Why,  lo  you  now,  I  have  spoke  to  the  purpose  twice: 
The  one  for  ever  earn'd  a  royal  husband; 
The  other  for  some  while  a  friend. 

Leon.  [Aside]    Too  hot,  too  hot! 

To  mingle  friendship  far  is  minghng  bloods. 
I  have  tremor  cordis  on  me:   my  heart  dances; 
But  not  for  joy;   not  joy.    This  entertainment     III 
May  a  free  face  put  on,  derive  a  liberty 
From  heartiness,  from  bounty,  fertile  bosom. 
And  well  become  the  agent;   't  may,  I  grant; 
But  to  be  paddHng  palms  and  pinching  fingers, 
As  now  they  are,  and  making  practised  smiles, 
As  in  a  looking-glass,  and  then  to  sigh,  as  'twere 
The  mort  o'  the  deer;   O,  that  is  entertainment 
My  bosom  likes  not,  nor  my  brows!     Mamiilius, 
Art  thou  my  boy? 

Mam.  Ay,  my  good  lord. 

Leon.  V  fecks!  120 

Why,  that 's  my  bawcock.     What,  hast  smutch'd  thy 

nose? 
They  say  it  is  a  copy  out  of  mine.     Come,  captain, 
We  must  be  neat;   not  neat,  but  cleanly,  captain: 
And  yet  the  steer,  the  heifer  and  the  calf 

33 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Are  all  call'd  neat. — Still  virginalllng- 

Upon  his  palm! — How  now,  you  wanton  calf! 

Art  thou  my  calf! 

Mam.  Yes,  if  you  will,  my  lord. 

Leon.  Thou  want'st  a  rough  pash  and  the  shoots  that  I 
have, 
To  be  full  like  me:   yet  they  say  we  are 
Almost  as  like  as  eggs;   women  say  so,  130 

That  will  say  any  thing:   but  were  they  false 
As  o'er-dyed  blacks,  as  wind,  as  waters,  false 
As  dice  are  to  be  wish'd  by  one  that  fixes 
No  bourne  'twixt  his  and  mine,  yet  were  it  true 
To  say  this  boy  were  like  me.     Come,  sir  page. 
Look  on  me  with  your  welkin  eye:  sweet  villain! 
Most   dear'st !    my  collop  !    Can   thv   dam  ? — may  't 

be?— 
Affection!  thy  intention  stabs  the  centre: 
Thou  dost  make  possible  things  not  so  held, 
Communicatest  with  dreams; — how  can  this  be? — 
With  what 's  unreal  thou  coactive  art,  141 

And  fellow'st  nothing:   then  'tis  very  credent 
Thou  mayst  co-join  with  something;  and  thou  dost, 
And  that  beyond  commission,  and  I  find  it, 
And  that  to  the  infection  of  my  brains 
And  hardening  of  my  brows. 

Pol.  What  means  Sicilia? 

Her.  He  something  seems  unsettled. 

Pol.  How,  my  lord! 

What  cheer  ?   how  is  't  with  you,  best  brother ! 

Her.  You  look 

As  if  you  held  a  brow  of  much  distraction; 
Are  you  moved,  my  lord? 

Leon.  No,  in  good  earnest.       150 

34 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

How  sometimes  nature  will  betray  its  folly, 

Its  tenderness,  and  make  itself  a  pastime 

To  harder  bosoms  !     Looking  on  the  lines 

Of  my  boy's  face,  methoughts  I  did  recoil 

Twenty-three  years,  and  saw  myself  unbreech'd, 

In  my  green  velvet  coat,  my  dagger  muzzled 

Lest  it  should  bite  its  master,  and  so  prove. 

As  ornaments  oft  do,  too  dangerous: 

How  like,  methought,  I  then  was  to  this  kernel. 

This  squash,  this  gentleman.     Mine  honest  friend, 

Will  you  take  eggs  for  money?  i6i 

Mam.  No,  my  lord,  I  '11  fight. 

Leon.  You  will!  why,  happy  man  be 's  dole!  My  brother, 
Are  you  so  fond  of  your  young  prince,  as  we 
Do  seem  to  be  of  ours? 

Pol.  If  at  home,  sir, 

He  's  all  my  exercise,  my  mirth,  my  matter: 

Now  my  sworn  friend,  and  then  mine  enemy; 

My  parasite,  my  soldier,  statesman,  all: 

He  makes  a  July's  day  short  as  December; 

And  with  his  varying  childness  cures  in  me         170 

Thoughts  that  would  thick  my  blood. 

Leon.  So  stands  this  squire 

Officed  with  me  :  we  two  will  walk,  my  lord, 
And  leave  you  to  your  graver  steps.     Hermione, 
How  thou  lovest  us,  show  in  our  brother's  welcome  ; 
Let  what  is  dear  in  Sicily  be  cheap : 
Next  to  thyself  and  my  young  rover,  he  's 
Apparent  to  my  heart. 

Her.  If  you  would  seek  us. 

We  are  yours   i'  the   garden:    shall 's   attend  you 
there? 

Leon.  To  your  own  bents  dispose  you:  you  '11  be  found, 

35 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Be  you  beneath  the  sky.     [Aside]    I  am  angling  now, 

Though  you  perceive  me  not  how  I  give  Hne.       i8i 

Go  to,  go  to! 

How  she  holds  up  the  neb,  the  bill  to  him! 

And  arms  her  with  the  boldness  of  a  wife 

To  her  allowing  husband! 

[Exeunt  Polixenes,  Hermione  and  Attenda}its. 
Gone  already! 
Inch-thick,  knee-deep,  o'er  head  and  ears  a  fork'd 

one! 
Go,  play,  boy,  play:  thy  mother  plays,  and  I 
Play  too;   but  so  disgraced  a  part,  whose  issue 
Will  hiss  me  to  my  grave:   contempt  and  clamour 
Will   be    my    knell.     Go,    play,    boy,    play.     There 

have  been,  190 

Or  I  am  much  deceived,  cuckolds  ere  now; 
And  many  a  man  there  is,  even  at  this  present. 
Now,  while  I  speak  this,  holds  his  wife  by  the  arm, 
That  little  thinks  she  has  been  sluiced  in  's  absence 
And  his  pond  fish'd  by  his  next  neighbour,  by 
Sir  Smile,  his  neighbour:   nay,  there  's  comfort  in  't. 
Whiles  other  men  have  gates  and  those  gates  open'd, 
As  mine,  against  their  will.     Should  all  despair 
That  have  revolted  wives,  the  tenth  of  mankind 
Would    hang   themselves.     Physic    for 't    there    is 

none; 
It  is  a  bawdy  planet,  that  will  strike  201 

Where  'tis  predominant ;   and  'tis  powerful,  think  it, 
From  east,  west,  north  and  south :  be  it  concluded, 
No  barricado  for  a  belly  ^   know't; 
It  will  let  in  and  out  the  enemy 
With  bag  and  baggage :   many  thousand  on  's 
Have  the  disease,  and  feel 't  not.     How  now,  boy! 

36 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

Manh  I  am  like  you,  they  say. 

Leon.  Why,  that 's  some  comfort. 

What,  Camillo  there? 
Cam.  Ay,  my  good  lord.  210 

Leon.  Go  play,  Mamillius  ;  thou  'rt  an  honest  man. 

[Exit  Mamillius. 

Camillo,  this  great  sir  will  yet  stay  longer. 
Cam.  You  had  much  ado  to  make  his  anchor  hold : 

When  you  cast  out,  it  still  came  home. 
Leon.  Didst  note  it? 

Cam.  He  would  not  stay  at  your  petitions;   made 

His  business  more  material. 
Leon.  Didst  perceive  it? 

[Aside'l  They  're  here  with  me  already;   whispering, 
rounding 

'  Sicilia  is  a  so-forth  ' :   'tis  far  gone. 

When  I  shall  gust  it  last. — How  came  't,  Camillo, 

That  he  did  stay  ? 
Cam.  At  the  good  queen's  entreaty.      220 

Leon.  At  the  queen's  be  't :   '  good  '  should  be  pertinent ; 

But,  so  it  is,  it  is  not.     Was  this  taken 

By  any  understanding  pate  but  thine? 

For  thy  conceit  is  soaking,  will  draw  in 

More  than  the  common  blocks:  not  noted,  is  't, 

But  of  the  finer  natures?  by  some  severals 

Of  head-piece  extraordinary?  lower  messes 

Perchance  are  to  this  business  purblind?  say. 
Cam.  Business,  my  lord!    I  think  most  understand 

Bohemia  stays  here  longer. 

Leon.  Ha! 

Cam.  Stays  here  longer.  230 

Leon.  Ay,  but  why? 

Z7 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Cam.  To  satisfy  your  highness,  and  the  entreaties 
Of  our  most  gracious  mistress. 

Leon.  Satisfy! 

The  entreaties  of  your  mistress!   satisfy! 
Let  that  suffice.     I  have  trusted  thee,  Camillo, 
With  all  the  nearest  things  to  my  heart,  as  well 
My  chamber-councils;    wherein,  priest-like,  thou 
Hast  cleansed  my  bosom,  I  from  thee  departed 
Thy  penitent  reform'd:  but  we  have  been 
Deceived  in  thy  integrity,  deceived  240 

In  that  which  seems  so. 

Cam.  Be  it  forbid,  my  lord! 

Leon.  To  bide  upon  't,  thou  art  not  honest ;    or. 
If  thou  incHnest  that  way,  thou  art  a  coward, 
Which  boxes  honesty  behind,  restraining 
From  course  required;  or  else  thou  must  be  counted 
A  servant  grafted  in  my  serious  trust 
And  therein  negligent ;  or  else  a  fool 
That  seest  a  game  play'd  home,  the  rich  stake  drawn, 
And  takest  it  all  for  jest. 

Cam.  My  gracious  lord, 

I  may  be  negligent,  fooHsh  and  fearful;  250 

In  every  one  of  these  no  man  is  free, 
But  that  his  negligence,  his  folly,  fear, 
Among  the  infinite  doings  of  the  world, 
Sometime  puts  forth.     In  your  affairs,  my  lord, 
If  ever  I  were  wilful-negligent, 
It  was  my  folly;   if  industriously 
I  play'd  the  fool,  it  was  my  negligence, 
Not  weighing  well  the  end;    if  ever  fearful 
,  To  do  a  thing,  where  I  the  issue  doubted. 
Whereof  the  execution  did  cry  out  260 

38 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

Against  the  non-performance,  'twas  a  fear 
Which  oft  infects  the  wisest:   these,  my  lord, 
Are  such  allow' d  infirmities  that  honesty 
Is  never  free  of.     But,  beseech  your  grace, 
Be  plainer  with  me;    let  me  know  my  trespass 
By  its  own  visage  :  if  I  then  deny  it, 
'Tis  none  of  mine. 

Leon.  Ha'  not  you  seen,  Camillo, — 

But  that 's  past  doubt,  you  have,  or  your  eye-glass 
Is  thicker  than  a  cuckold's  horn, — or  heard, — 
For  to  a  vision  so  apparent  rumour  270 

Cannot  be  mute, — or  thought, — for  cogitation 
Resides  not  in  that  man  that  does  not  think, — 
My  wife  is  slippery  ?    If  thou  wilt  confess. 
Or  else  be  impudently  negative, 
To  have  nor  eyes  nor  ears  nor  thought,  then  say 
My  wife  's  a  hobby-horse;   deserves  a  name 
As  rank  as  any  flax-wench  that  puts  to 
Before  her  troth-plight :  say  't  and  justify  't. 

Cam.  I  would  not  be  a  stander-by  to  hear 

My  sovereign  mistress  clouded  so,  without         280 
My  present  vengeance  taken :   'shrew  my  heart, 
You  never  spoke  what  did  become  you  less 
Than  this ;   which  to  reiterate  were  sin 
As  deep  as  that,  though  true. 

Leon.  Is  whispering  nothing? 

Is  leaning  cheek  to  cheek?  is  meeting  noses? 
Kissing  with  inside  lip  ?   stopping  the  career 
Of  laughter  with  a  sigh? — a  note  infallible 
O'f  breaking  honesty ; — horsing  foot  on  foot  ? 
Skulking  in  corners?  wishing  clocks  more  swift? 
Hours,  minutes?  noon,  midnight?  and  all  eyes     290 

39 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Blind  with  the  pin  and  web  but  theirs,  theirs  only, 
That  would  unseen  be  wicked?  is  this  nothing? 
Why,  then  the  world  and  all  that 's  in  't  is  nothing ; 
The  covering  sky  is  nothing;    Bohemia  nothing; 
My  wife  is  nothing;    nor  nothing  have  these  noth- 
ings, 
If  this  be  nothing. 

Cam,  Good  my  lord,  be  cured 

Of  this  diseased  opinion,  and  betimes; 
For  'tis  most  dangerous. 

Leon.  Say  it  be,  'tis  true. 

Cam.  No,  no,  my  lord. 

Leon.  It  is;   you  lie,  you  lie: 

I  say  thou  liest,  Camillo,  and  I  hate  thee,  300 

Pronounce  thee  a  gross  lout,  a  mindless  slave, 

Or  else  a  hovering  temporizer,  that 

Canst  with  thine  eyes  at  once  see  good  and  evil, 

Inclining  to  them  both:   were  my  wife's  liver 

Infected  as  her  life,  she  would  not  live 

The  running  of  one  glass. 

Cam.  Who  does  infect  her? 

Leon.  Why,  he  that  wears  her  like  her  medal,  hanging 
About  his  neck,  Bohemia:   who,  if  I 
Had  servants  true  about  me,  that  bare  eyes 
To  see  alike  mine  honour  as  their  profits,  310 

Their  own  particular  thrifts,  they  would  do  that 
Which  should  undo  more  doing :  ay,  and  thou. 
His  cupbearer, — whom  I  from  meaner  form 
Have  bench'd  and  rear'd  to  worship,  who  mayst  see 
Plainly  as  heaven  sees  earth  and  earth  sees  heaven. 
How  I  am  gall'd, — mightst  bespice  a  cup, 
To  give  mine  enemy  a  lasting  wink; 
Which  draught  to.  me  were  cordial. 

40 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

Cam.  Sir,  my  lord, 

I  could  do  this,  and  that  with  no  rash  potion, 
But  with  a  lingering  dram,  that  should  not  work  320 
Maliciously  Hke  poison:   but  I  cannot 
Believe  this  crack  to  be  in  my  dread  mistress, 
So  sovereignly  being  honourable. 
I  have  loved  thee, — 

Lcoji.  Make  that  thy  question,  and  go  rot ! 

Dost  think  I  am  so  muddy,  so  unsettled, 
To  appoint  myself  in  this  vexation;   sully 
The  purity  and  whiteness  of  my  sheets, 
Which  to  preserve  is  sleep,  which  being  spotted 
Is  goads,  thorns,  nettles,  tails  of  wasps; 
Give  scandal  to  the  blood  o'  the  prince  my  son,     330 
Who  I  do  think  is  mine  and  love  as  mine. 
Without  ripe  moving  to  't  ?     Would  I  do  this  ? 
Could  man  so  blench? 

Cam.  I  must  believe  you,  sir: 

I  do;   and  will  fetch  of¥  Bohemia  for't; 
Provided  that,  when  he  's  removed,  your  highness 
Will  take  again  your  queen  as  yours  at  first, 
Even  for  your  son's  sake ;  and  thereby  for  sealing 
The  injury  of  tongues  in  courts  and  kingdom 
Known  and  allied  to  yours. 

Leon.  Thou  dost  advise  me 

Even  so  as  I  mine  own  course  have  set  down:     340 
I  '11  give  no  blemish  to  her  honour,  none. 

Cam.  My  lord. 

Go  then;   and  with  a  countenance  as  clear 
As  friendship  wears  at  feasts,  keep  with  Bohemia 
And  with  your  queen.     I  am  his  cupbearer: 
If  from  me  he  have  wholesome  beverage, 

41 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Account  me  not  your  servant. 

Leon.  This  is  all : 

Do  't,  and  thou  hast  the  one  half  of  my  heart; 
Do  't  not,  thou  splitt'st  thine  own. 

Cam.  I  '11  do  't,  my  lord. 

Leon.  I  will  seem  friendly,  as  thou  hast  advised  me.     350 

[Exit, 

Cam.  O  miserable  lady!     But,  for  me. 

What  case  stand  I  in  ?     I  must  be  the  poisoner 
Of  good  Polixenes:  and  my  ground  to  do  't 
Is  the  obedience  to  a  master,  one 
Who,  in  rebellion  with  himself,  will  have 
All  that  are  his  so  too.     To  do  this  deed, 
Promotion  follows.     If  I  could  find  example 
Of  thousands  that  had  struck  anointed  kings 
And  flourish'd  after,  I  'Id  not  do  't;   but  since 
Nor   brass    nor    stone    nor   parchment    bears    not 
one,  360 

Let  villany  itself  forswear  't.     I  must 
Forsake  the  court :   to  do  't,  or  no,  is  certain 
To  me  a  break-neck.     Happy  star  reign  now! 
Here  comes  Bohemia. 

Re-enter  Polixenes. 

Pol.  This  is  strange:  methinks 

My  favour  here  begins  to  warp.     Not  speak? 
Good  day,  Camillo. 

Cam.  Hail,  most  royal  sir! 

Pol.  What  is  the  news  i'  the  court? 

Cam.  None  rare,  my  lord. 

Pol.  The  king  hath  on  him  such  a  countenance 
As  he  had  lost  some  province,  and  a  region 
Loved  as  he  loves  himself:   even  now  I  met  him  370 
42 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

With  customary  compliment;    when  he, 
Wafting  his  eyes  to  the  contrary,  and  falUng 
A  Up  of  much  contempt,  speeds  from  me  and 
So  leaves  me,  to  consider  what  is  breeding 
That  changes  thus  his  manners. 

Cam.  I  dare  not  know,  my  lord. 

Pol.  How!   dare  not!   do  not.     Do  you  know,  and  dare 
not? 
Be  intelHgent  to  me:   'tis  thereabouts  ; 
For,  to  yourself,  what  you  do  know,  you  must. 
And  cannot  say,  you  dare  not.     Good  Camillo,       380 
Your  changed  complexions  are  to  me  a  mirror 
Which  shows  me  mine  changed  too;  for  I  must  be 
A  party  in  this  alteration,  finding 
Myself  thus  alter'd  with  't. 

(7^^^  There  is  a  sickness 

Which  puts  some  of  us  in  distemper ;  but 
I  cannot  name  the  disease ;   and  it  is  caught 
Of  you  that  yet  are  well. 

Pgl  How!  caught  of  me! 

Make  me  not  sighted  like  the  basilisk : 
I  have  look'd  on  thousands,  who  have  sped  the  better 
By  my  regard,  but  kill'd  none  so.     Camillo, —      390 
As  you  are  certainly  a  gentleman ;  thereto 
Clerk-Uke  experienced,  which  no  less  adorns 
Our  gentry  than  our  parents'  noble  names, 
In  whose  success  we  are  gentle,— I  beseech  you, 
If  you  know  aught  which  does  behove  my  know- 
ledge 
Thereof  to  be  inform'd,  imprison  't  not 
In  ignorant  concealment. 
(7q,„^  I  may  not  answer. 

Pol  A  sickness  caught  of  me,  and  yet  I  well!  ^    . 

43 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

I  must  be  answer'd.    Dost  thou  hear,  Camillo? 

I  conjure  thee,  by  all  the  parts  of  man  400 

Which  honour  does  acknowledge,  whereof  the  least 

Is  not  this  suit  of  mine,  that  thou  declare 

What  incidency  thou  dost  guess  of  harm 

Is  creeping  toward  me ;  how  far  ofif,  how  near  ; 

Which  way  to  be  prevented,  if  to  be; 

If  not,  how  best  to  bear  it. 

Cam.  Sir,  I  will  tell  you; 

Since  I  am  charged  in  honour  and  by  him 
That  I  think  honourable:   therefore  mark  my  coun- 
sel, 
Which  must  be  ev'n  as  swiftly  follow'd  as 
I  mean  to  utter  it,  or  both  yourself  and  me  410 

Cry  lost,  and  so  good  night! 

Pol.  On,  good  Camillo. 

Cam.  I  am  appointed  him  to  murder  you. 

Pol.  By  whom,  Camillo? 

Cam,  By  the  king. 

Pol.  For  what? 

Cam.  He  thinks,  nay,  with  all  confidence  he  swears, 
As  he  had  seen  't,  or  been  an  instrument 
To  vice  you  to  't,  that  you  have  touch'd  his  queen 
Forbiddenly. 

Pol.  O  then,  my  best  blood  turn 

To  an  infected  jelly,  and  my  name 
Be  yoked  with  his  that  did  betray  the  Best ! 
Turn  then  my  freshest  reputation  to  420 

A  savour  that  may  strike  the  dullest  nostril 
Where  I  arrive,  and  my  approach  be  shunn'd, 
Nay,  hated  too,  worse  than  the  great'st  infection 
That  e'er  was  heard  or  read! 

Cam,  Swear  his  thought  over 

44 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

By  each  particular  star  in  heaven  and 
By  all  their  influences,  you  may  as  well 
Forbid  the  sea  for  to  obey  the  moon, 
As  or  by  oath  remove  or  counsel  shake 
The  fabric  of  his  folly,  whose  foundation 
Is  piled  upon  his  faith,  and  will  continue  43° 

The  standing  of  his  body. 
P()l  How  should  this  grow? 

Cam.  I  know  not :  but  I  am  sure  'tis  safer  to 

Avoid  what 's  grown  than  question  how  'tis  born. 
If  therefore  you  dare  trust  my  honesty, 
That  lies  enclosed  in  this  trunk  which  you 
Shall  bear  along  impawn' d,  away  to-night ! 
Your  followers  I  will  whisper  to  the  business ; 
And  will  by  twos  and  threes  at  several  posterns. 
Clear  them  o'  the  city.     For  myself,  I  '11  put 
My  fortunes  to  your  service,  which  are  here  440 

By  this  discovery  lost.     Be  not  uncertain  ; 
For,  by  the  honour  of  my  parents,  I 
Have  utter' d  truth :   which  if  you  seek  to  prove, 
I  dare  not  stand  by ;  nor  shall  you  be  safer 
Than  one  condemn'd  by  the  king's  own  mouth,  there- 
on 
His  execution  sworn. 
PqI  I  do  believe  thee  : 

I  saw  his  heart  in  's  face.     Give  me  thy  hand : 

Be  pilot  to  me  and  thy  places  shall 

Still  neighbour  mine.     My  ships  are  ready,  and 

My  people  did  expect  my  hence  departure  45^ 

Two  days  ago.     This  jealousy 

Is  for  a  precious  creature  :   as  she  's  rare, 

Must  it  be  great ;   and,  as  his  person  's  mighty, 

Must  it  be  violent ;  and  as  he  does  conceive 

45 


Act  11.  Sc.  i.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

He  is  dishonour'd  by  a  man  which  ever 
Profess'd  to  him,  why,  his  revenges  must 
In  that  be  made  more  bitter.     Fear  o'ershades  me : 
Good  expedition  be  my  friend,  and  comfort 
The  gracious  queen,  part  of  his  theme,  but  nothing 
Of  his  ill-ta'en  suspicion  !     Come,  Camillo ;  460 

I  will  respect  thee  as  a  father  if 
Thou  bear'st  my  life  off  hence  :   let  us  avoid. 
Cam.  It  is  in  mine  authority  to  command 

The  keys  of  all  the  posterns :   please  your  highness 
To  take  the  urgent  hour.     Come,  sir,  away. 

[Exeunt. 

ACT  SECOND. 

Scene  I. 

A  room  in  Leontes'  palace. 
Enter  Hermione,  Mamilliiis,  and  Ladies. 

Her.  Take  the  boy  to  you :  he  so  troubles  me, 
'Tis  past  enduring. 

First  Lady.  Come,  my  gracious  lord. 
Shall  I  be  your  playfellow  ? 

Mam.  No,  I  '11  none  of  you. 

First  Lady.  Why,  my  sweet  lord? 

Mam.  You  '11  kiss  me  hard,  and  speak  to  me  as  if 
I  were  a  baby  still.     I  love  you  better. 

Sec.  Lady.  And  why  so,  my  lord  ? 

Mam.  Not  for  because 

Your  brows  are  blacker ;  yet  black  brows,  they  say, 

Become  some  women  best,  so  that  there  be  not 

Too  much  hair  there,  but  in  a  semicircle,  10 

46 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

Or  a  half-moon  made  with  a  pen. 
Sec.  Lady.  Who  taught  you  this? 

Mam.  I  learn'd  it  out  of  women's  faces.     Pray  now 

What  colour  are  your  eyebrows  ? 
First  Lady.  Blue,  my  lord. 

Mam.  Nay,  that 's  a  mock :  I  have  seen  a  lady's  nose 

That  has  been  blue,  but  not  her  eyebrows. 
First  Lady.  Hark  ye; 

The  queen  your  mother  rounds  apace :  we  shall 

Present  our  service  to  a  fine  new  prince 

One  of  these  days;    and  then  you 'Id  wanton  with 
us. 

If  we  would  have  you. 
Sec.  Lady.  She  is  spread  of  late 

Into  a  goodly  bulk :   good  time  encounter  her !      20 
Her.  What  wisdom  stirs  amongst  you?     Come,  sir,  now 

I  am  for  you  again :  pray  you,  sit  by  us, 

And  tell 's  a  tale. 
Mam.  Merry  or  sad  shall 't  be  ? 

Her.  As  merry  as  you  will. 
Mam.  A  sad  tale  's  best  for  winter :   I  have  one 

Of  sprites  and  goblins. 
Her.  Let 's  have  that,  good  sir. 

Come  on,  sit  down  :  come  on,  and  do  your  best 

To  fright  me  with  your  sprites ;   you  're  powerful  at 
it. 
Mam.  There  was  a  man — 

Her,  Nay,  come,  sit  down ;  then  on. 

Mam.  Dwelt  by  a  churchyard  :   I  will  tell  it  softly ;        30 

Yond  crickets  shall  not  hear  it. 
Her.  Come  on,  then, 

And  give  't  me  in  mine  ear. 
47 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Enter  Le antes,  zvith  Antigonus,  Lords,  and  others. 

Leon.  Was  he  met  there  ?  his  train  ?  Camillo  with  him  ? 

First  Lord.  Behind  the  tuft  of  pines  I  met  them  ;  never 
Saw  I  men  scour  so  on  their  way :  I  eyed  them 
Even  to  their  ships. 

J.eon.  How  blest  am  I 

In  my  just  censure,  in  my  true  opinion ! 

Alack,  for  lesser  knowledge !  how  accursed 

In  being  so  blest !     There  may  be  in  the  cup 

A  spider  steep'd,  and  one  may  drink,  depart,  40 

And  yet  partake  no  venom ;   for  his  knowledge 

Is  not  infected ;   but  if  one  present 

The  abhorr'd  ingredient  to  his  eye,  make  known 

How  he  hath  drunk,  he  cracks  his  gorge,  his  sides. 

With   violent   hefts.     I   have   drunk,   and   seen   the 

spider. 
Camillo  was  his  help  in  this,  his  pandar : 
There  is  a  plot  against  my  life,  my  crown  ; 
All  's  true  that  is  mistrusted :   that  false  villain 
Whom  I  employ'd  was  pre-employ'd  by  him: 
He  has  discover'd  my  design,  and  I  50 

Remain  a  pinch'd  thing ;  yea,  a  very  trick 
For  them  to  play  at  will.     How  came  the  posterns 
So  easily  open? 

First  Lord.  By  his  great  authority ; 

Which  often  hath  no  less  prevail' d  than  so 
On  your  command. 

Leon.  I  know  't  too  well. 

Give  me  the  boy :   I  am  glad  you  did  not  nurse  him ; 
Though  he  does  bear  some  signs  of  me,  yet  you 
Have  too  much  blood  in  him. 

Her.  What  is  this?   sport? 

48 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

Leon.  Bear  the  boy  hence;  he  shall  not  come  about  her; 
Away  with  him !  and  let  her  sport  herself  60 

With  that  she's  big  with;    for  'tis  Polixenes 
Hath  made  thee  swell  thus. 

Her.  But  I  'Id  say  he  had  not, 

And  I  '11  be  sworn  you  would  believe  my  saying, 
Howe'er  you  lean  to  the  nayward. 

Leon.  You,  my  lords, 

Look  on  her,  mark  her  well ;  be  but  about 
To  say  '  she  is  a  goodly  lady,'  and 
The  justice  of  your  hearts  will  thereto  add 
*  'Tis  pity  she  's  not  honest,  honourable  ' : 
Praise  her  but  for  this  her  without-door  form, 
Which    on    my    faith    deserves    high    speech,    and 

straight 
The  shrug,  the  hum  or  ha,  these  pretty  brands     71 
That  calumny  doth  use;    O,  I  am  out, 
That  mercy  does,  for  calumny  will  sear 
Virtue  itself :  these  shrugs,  these  hums  and  ha's, 
When  you  have  said  '  she  's  goodly,'  come  between 
Ere  you  can  say  '  she  's  honest ' :  but  be  't  known. 
From  him  that  has  most  cause  to  grieve  it  should 

be. 
She  's  an  adulteress. 

Her.  Should  a  villain  say  so, 

The  most  replenish'd  villain  in  the  world, 
He  were  as  much  more  villain:   you,  my  lord,         80 
Do  but  mistake. 

Leon.  You  have  mistook,  my  lady, 

PoHxenes  for  Leontes:    O  thou  thing! 
Which  I  '11  not  call  a  creature  of  thy  place, 
Lest  barbarism,  making  me  the  precedent, 
Should  a  like  language  use  to  all  degrees, 
And  mannerly  distinguishment  leave  out 

49 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Betwixt  the  prince  and  beggar:    I  have  said 

She  's  an  adulteress;  I  have  said  with  whom: 

More,  she  's  a  traitor  and  Camillo  is 

A  federary  with  her;   and  one  that  knows,  90 

What  she  should  shame  to  know'herself 

But  with  her  most  vile  principal,  that  she  's 

A  bed-swerver,  even  as  bad  as  those 

That  vulgars  give  bold'st  titles;    ay,  and  privy 

To  this  their  late  escape. 

Her.  No,  by  my  life, 

Privy  to  none  of  this.     How  will  this  grieve  you, 
When  you  shall  come  to  clearer  knowledge,  that 
You  thus  have  pubHsh'd  me !    Gentle  my  lord. 
You  scarce  can  right  me  thoroughly  then  to  say 
You  did  mistake. 

Leon.  No;  if  I  mistake  100 

In  those  foundations  which  I  build  upon, 
The  centre  is  not  big  enough  to  bear 
A  school-boy's  top.      Away  with  her,  to  prison! 
He  who  shall  speak  for  her  is  afar  ofif  guilty 
But  that  he  speaks. 

Her.  There  's  some  ill  planet  reigns : 

I  must  be  patient  till  the  heavens  look 
With  an  aspect  more  favourable.     Good  my  lords, 
I  am  not  prone  to  weeping,  as  our  sex 
Commonly  are;  the  want  of  which  vain  dew 
Perchance  shall  dry  your  pities:  but  I  have  no 

That  honourable  grief  lodged  here  which  burns 
Worse  than  tears  drown:  beseech  you  all,  my  lords, 
With  thoughts  so  qualified  as  your  charities 
Shall  best  instruct  you,  measure  me ;  and  so 
The  king's  will  be  perform'd! 
50 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  II.  Sc.  u 

Leon.  Shall  I  be  heard  ? 

Her.  Who  is  't  that  goes  with  me  ?     Beseech  your  high- 
ness, 
My  women  may  be  with  me ;   for  you  see 
My  plight  requires  it.    Do  not  weep,  good  fools ; 
There  is  no  cause ;   when  you  shall  know  your  mis- 
tress 
Has  deserved  prison,  then  abound  in  tears  120 

As  I  come  out :  this  action  I  now  go  on 
Is  for  my  better  grace.     Adieu,  my  lord : 
I  never  wish'd  to  see  you  sorry ;  now 
I  trust  I  shall.     My  women,  come ;  you  have  leave. 

Leon,  Go,  do  our  bidding ;  hence ! 

[Exit  Queen,  guarded;   with  Ladies. 

First  Lord.  Beseech  your  highness,  call  the  queen  again. 

Ant.  Be  certain  what  you  do,  lest  your  justice 

Prove  violence ;   in  the  which  three  great  ones  suffer, 
Yourself,  your  queen,  your  son. 

First  Lord.  For  her,  my  lord, 

I  dare  my  life  lay  down  and  will  do  't,  sir,  130 

Please  you  to  accept  it,  that  the  queen  is  spotless 
r  the  eyes  of  heaven  and  to  you ;  I  mean. 
In  this  which  you  accuse  her. 

Ant.  If  it  prove 

She  's  otherwise,  I  '11  keep  my  stables  where 
I  lodge  my  wife ;  I  '11  go  in  couples  with  her ; 
Than  when  I  feel  and  see  her  no  farther  trust  her ; 
For  every  inch  of  woman  in  the  world. 
Ay,  every  dram  of  woman's  flesh  is  false, 
If  she  be. 

Leon.  Hold  your  peaces. 

First  Lord.  Good  my  lord, — 

SI 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

It  is  for  you  we  speak,  not  for  ourselves :  140 

-  You  are  abused,  and  by  some  putter-on 
That  will  be  damn'd  for  't ;  would  I  knew  the  villain, 
I  would  land-damn  him.     Be  she  honour-flaw'd, 
I  have  three  daughters  ;   the  eldest  is  eleven ; 
The  second  and  the  third,  nine,  and  some  five ; 
If  this  prove  true,  they  '11  pay  for  't :  by  mine  honour, 
I  '11  geld  'em  all ;   fourteen  they  shall  not  see, 
To  bring  false  generations  :   they  are  co-heirs ; 
And  I  had  rather  glib  myself  than  they 
Should  not  produce  fair  issue. 

Leon.  Cease;  no  more.     150 

You  smell  this  business  with  a  sense  as  cold 
As  is  a  dead  man's  nose :  but  I  do  see  't  and  feel 't, 
As  you  feel  doing  thus ;   and  see  withal 
The  instruments  that  feel. 

Ant.  If  it  be  so. 

We  need  no  grave  to  bury  honesty : 
There  's  not  a  grain  of  it  the  face  to  sweeten 
Of  the  whole  dungy  earth. 

Leon.  What !   lack  I  credit  ? 

First  Lord.  I  had  rather  you  did  lack  than  I,  my  lord, 
Upon  this  ground ;  and  more  it  would  content  me 
To  have  her  honour  true  than  your  suspicion,     160 
Be  blamed  for  't  how  you  might. 

Leon.  Why,  what  need  we 

Commune  with  you  of  this,  but  rather  follow 
Our  forceful  instigation  ?     Our  prerogative 
Calls  not  your  counsels,  but  our  natural  goodness 
Imparts  this ;  which  if  you,  or  stupified 
Or  seeming  so  in  skill,  cannot  or  will  not 
Relish  a  truth  like  us,  inform  yourselves 

52 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

We  need  no  more  of  your  advice :   the  matter, 
The  loss,  the  gain,  the  ordering  on  't,  is  all 
Properly  ours. 

Ant.  And  I  wish,  my  liege,  170 

You  had  only  in  your  silent  judgement  tried  it, 
Without  more  overture. 

Leon.  Hov^  could  that  be? 

Either  thou  art  most  ignorant  by  age, 
Or  thou  wert  born  a  fool.    Camillo's  flight, 
Added  to  their  familiarity. 
Which  was  as  gross  as  ever  touch'd  conjecture, 
That  lack'd  sight  only,  nought  for  approbation 
But  only  seeing,  all  other  circumstances 
Made  up  to  the  deed, — doth  push  on  this  proceeding : 
Yet,  for  a  greater  confirmation,  .  180 

For  in  an  act  of  this  importance  'twere 
Most  piteous  to  be  wild,  I  have  dispatch'd  in  post 
To  sacred  Delphos,  to  Apollo's  temple, 
Cleomenes  and  Dion,  whom  you  know 
Of  stuff' d  sufficiency :  now  from  the  oracle 
They  will  bring  all ;   whose  spiritual  counsel  had. 
Shall  stop  or  spur  me.     Have  I  done  well? 

First  Lord.  Well  done,  my  lord. 

Leon.  Though  I  am  satisfied  and  need  no  more 

Than  what  I  know,  yet  shall  the  oracle  190 

Give  rest  to  the  minds  of  others,  such  as  he 

Whose  ignorant  credulity  will  not 

Come  up  to  the  truth.     So  have  we  thought  it  good 

From  our  free  person  she  should  be  confined, 

Lest  that  the  treachery  of  the  two  fled  hence 

Be  left  her  to  perform.     Come,  follow  us ; 

We  are  to  speak  in  public ;  for  this  business 

53 


Act  II.  Sc.  ii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Will  raise  us  all. 
Ant,  [Aside]  To  laughter,  as  I  take  it, 

If  the  good  truth  were  known.  [Exeunt. 

Scene  II. 

A  prison. 

Enter  Paulina,  a  Gentleman,  and  Attendants, 

Paul.  The  keeper  of  the  prison,  call  to  him ; 

Let  him  have  knowledge  who  I  am.  [Exit  Gent. 

Good  lady, 
No  court  in  Europe  is  too  good  for  thee ; 
What  dost  thou  then  in  prison  ? 

Re-enter  Gentleman,  with  the  Gaoler, 

Now,  good  sir, 

You  know  me,  do  you  not  ? 
Gaol.  For  a  worthy  lady 

And  one  who  much  I  honour. 
Paul.  Pray  you,  then. 

Conduct  me  to  the  queen. 
Gaol.  I  may  not,  madam  : 

To  the  contrary  I  have  express  commandment. 
Paul.  Here  's  ado, 

To  lock  up  honesty  and  honour  from  lo 

The  access  of  gentle  visitors !     Is  't  lawful,  pray  you, 

To  see  her  women  ?  any  of  them  ?   Emilia  ? 
Gaol.  So  please  you,  madam. 

To  put  apart  these  your  attendants,  I 

Shall  bring  Emilia  forth. 
Paul.  I  pray  now,  call  her. 

54 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  II.  Sc.  ii. 

Withdraw  yourselves. 

[Exeunt  Gentleman  and  Attendants. 
Gaol.  And,  madam, 

I  must  be  present  at  your  conference. 
Paul.  Well,  be  't  so,  prithee.  [Exit  Gaoler. 

Here  's  such  ado  to  make  no  stain  a  stain 

As  passes  colouring. 

Re-enter  Gaoler,  with  Emilia. 

Dear  gentlewoman,  20 

How  fares  our  gracious  lady  ? 

Emil.  As  well  as  one  so  great  and  so  forlorn 

May  hold  together :   on  her  frights  and  griefs, 
Which  never  tender  lady  hath  borne  greater, 
She  is  something  before  her  time  deliver'd. 

Paul.  A  boy  ? 

Emil.  A  daughter ;  and  a  goodly  babe. 

Lusty  and  like  to  live :  the  queen  receives 
Much  comfort  in  't ;   says,  '  My  poor  prisoner, 
I  am  innocent  as  you.' 

Paul.  I  dare  be  sworn : 

These  dangerous  unsafe  lunes  i'  the  king,  beshrew 
them !  30 

He  must  be  told  on  't,  and  he  shall :   the  office 
Becomes  a  woman  best ;   I  '11  take  't  upon  me : 
If  I  prove  honey-mouth'd,  let  my  tongue  blister. 
And  never  to  my  red-look'd  anger  be 
The  trumpet  any  more.     Pray  you,  Emilia, 
Commend  my  best  obedience  to  the  queen : 
If  she  dares  trust  me  with  her  little  babe, 
I  '11  show  't  the  king  and  undertake  to  be 
Her  advocate  to  the  loud'st.     We  do  not  know 

55 


Act  II.  Sc.  ii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

How  he  may  soften  at  the  siglit  o'  the  child :  40 

The  silence  often  of  pure  innocence 
Persuades  when  speaking  fails. 

Emil.  Most  worthy  madam, 

Your  honour  and  your  goodness  is  so  evident, 
That  your  free  undertaking  cannot  miss 
A  thriving  issue :  there  is  no  lady  living 
So  meet  for  this  great  errand.     Please  your  ladyship 
To  visit  the  next  room,  I  '11  presently 
Acquaint  the  queen  of  your  most  noble  offer ; 
Who  but  to-day  hammer' d  of  this  design, 
But  durst  not  tempt  a  minister  of  honour,  50 

Lest  she  should  be  denied. 

Paul.  Tell  her,  Emilia, 

I  '11  use  that  tongue  I  have :   if  wit  flow  from  't 
As  boldness  from  my  bosom,  let  't  not  be  doubted 
I  shall  do  good. 

Ernii  Now  be  you  blest  for  it! 

I  '11  to  the  queen  :  please  you,  come  something  nearer. 

Gaol.  Madam,  if  't  please  the  queen  to  send  the  babe, 
I  know  not  what  I  shall  incur  to  pass  it. 
Having  no  warrant. 

Paul.  You  need  not  fear  it,  sir: 

This  child  was  prisoner  to  the  womb,  and  is 
By  law  and  process  of  great  nature  thence  60 

Freed  and  enfranchised  ;  not  a  party  to 
The  anger  of  the  king,  nor  guilty  of, 
If  any  be,  the  trespass  of  the  queen. 

Gaol.  I  do  believe  it. 

Paul.  Do  not  you  fear :   upon  mine  honour,  I 

Will  stand  betwixt  you  and  danger.  [Exeunt. 


36 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  II.  Sc.  iii. 

Scene  III. 

A  room  in  Leontes'  palace. 
Enter  Leontes,  Antigomis,  Lords,  and  Servants. 

Leon.  Xor  night  nor  day  no  rest :   it  is  but  weakness 
To  bear  the  matter  thus  ;   mere  weakness.     If 
The  cause  were  not  in  being, — part  o'  the  cause, 
She  the  adulteress  ;   for  the  harlot  king 
Is  quite  beyond  mine  arm,  out  of  the  blank 
And  level  of  my  brain,  plot-proof ;  but  she 
I  can  hook  to  me :  say  that  she  were  gone, 
Given  to  the  fire,  a  moiety  of  my  rest 
Might  come  to  me  again.     Who  's  there  ? 

First  Serv.  My  lord? 

Leon.  How  does  the  boy  ? 

First  Serv.  He  took  good  rest  to-night ;    lo 

'Tis  hoped  his  sickness  is  discharged. 

Leon.  To  see  his  nobleness  ! 

Conceiving  the  dishonour  of  his  mother, 

He  straight  declined,  droop'd,  took  it  deeply, 

Fasten'd  and  fix'd  the  shame  on  't  in  himself, 

Threw  off  his  spirit,  his  appetite,  his  sleep. 

And  downright  languish'd.     Leave  me  solely:   go, 

See    how    he    fares.     [Exit    Serv.]     Fie,    fie!     no 

thought  of  him : 
The  very  thought  of  my  revenges  that  way 
Recoil  upon  me :  in  himself  too  mighty,  20 

And  in  his  parties,  his  alliance ;  let  him  be 
Until  a  time  may  serve :   for  present  vengeance. 
Take  it  on  her.     Camillo  and  Polixenes 
Laugh  at  me,  make  their  pastime  at  my  sorrow : 

57 


Act  II.  Sc.  iii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

They  should  not  laugh  if  I  could  reach  them,  nor 
Shall  she  within  my  power. 

Enter  Paulina,  with  a  child. 

First  Lord.  You  must  not  enter. 

Paul.  Nay,  rather,  good  my  lords,  be  second  to  me : 
Fear  you  his  tyrannous  passion  more,  alas, 
Than  the  queen's  life?   a  gracious  innocent  soul, 
■More  free  than  he  is  jealous. 

Ant,  That 's  enough.  30 

Sec.  Serz'.  Madam,    he    hath   not    slept    to-night;     com- 
manded 
None  should  come  at  him. 

Paul.  Not  so  hot,  good  sir : 

I  come  to  bring  him  sleep.  ,  'Tis  such  as  you. 
That  creep  like  shadows  by  him,  and  do  sigh 
At  each  his  needless  heavings,  such  as  you 
Nourish  the  cause  of  his  awaking :   I 
Do  come  with  words  as  medicinal  as  true. 
Honest  as  either,  to  purge  him  of  that  humour 
That  presses  him  from  sleep. 

Leon.  What  noise  there,  ho  ? 

Paul.  No  noise,  my  lord ;  but  needful  conference  40 

About  some  gossips  for  your  highness. 

Leon.  How : 

Away  with  that  audacious  lady!     Antigonus, 
I  charged  thee  that  she  should  not  come  about  me : 
I  knew  she  would. 

Ant.  I  told  her  so,  my  lord. 

On  your  displeasure's  peril  and  on  mine. 
She  should  not  visit  you. 

Leon.  What,  canst  not  rule  her? 

Paul.  From  all  dishonesty  he  can :   in  this, 

58 


I 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  II.  Sc.  iii. 

Unless  he  take  the  course  that  you  have  done, 

Commit  me  from  committing  honour,  trust  it, 

He  shall  not  rule  me. 
Ant.  La  you  now,  you  hear:  50 

When  she  will  take  the  rein  I  let  her  run ; 

But  she  '11  not  stumble. 
Paul.  Good  my  liege,  I  come ; 

And,  I  beseech  you,  hear  me,  who  professes 

Myself  your  loyal  servant,  your  physician, 

Your  most  obedient  counsellor,  yet  that  dares 

Less  appear  so  in  comforting  your  evils, 

Than  such  as  most  seem  yours :   I  say,  I  come 

From  your  good  queen. 
Leon.  Good  queen ! 

Paul.  Good  queen,  my  lord. 

Good  queen  ;   I  say  good  queen ; 

And  would  by  combat  make  her  good,  so  were  I     60 

A  man,  the  worst  about  you. 
Leon.  Force  her  hence. 

Paul.  Let  him  that  makes  but  trifles  of  his  eyes 

First  hand  me :  on  mine  own  accord  I  '11  off ; 

But  first  I  '11  do  my  errand.     The  good  queen. 

For  she  is  good,  hath  brought  you  forth  a  daughter ; 

Here  'tis ;   commends  it  to  your  blessing. 

[Laying  doivn  the  child. 
Leon.  Out ! 

A  mankind  witch !     Hence  with  her,  out  o'  door : 

A  most  intelligencing  bawd ! 
Paul.  Not  so : 

I  am  as  ignorant  in  that  as  you 

In  so  entitling  me,  and  no  less  honest  70 

Than  you  are  mad ;  which  is  enough,  I  '11  warrant, 

59 


Act  II.  Sc.  iii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

As  this  world  goes,  to  pass  for  honest. 

Leon.  Traitors ! 

Will  you  not  push  her  out  ?     Give  her  the  bastard. 
Thou  dotard!   thou  art  woman-tired,  unroosted 
By  thy  dame  Partlet  here.     Take  up  the  bastard ; 
Take  't  up,  I  say  ;  give  't  to  thy  crone. 

Paul.  For  ever 

Unvenerable  be  thy  hands,  if  thou 
Takest  up  the  princess  by  that  forced  baseness 
Which  he  has  put  upon  't ! 

Leon.  He  dreads  his  wife. 

Paid.  So  I  would  you  did ;   then  'twere  past  all  doubt  80 
You  'Id  call  your  children  yours. 

Leon.  A  nest  of  traitors  ! 

Ant.  I  am  none,  by  this  good  light. 

Paul.  Nor  I ;   nor  any 

But  one  that 's  here,  and  that 's  himself ;   for  he 
The  sacred  honour  of  himself,  his  queen's. 
His  hopeful  son's,  his  babe's,  betrays  to  slander. 
Whose  sting  is  sharper  than  the  sword's ;    and  will 

not, — 
For,  as  the  case  now  stands,  it  is  a  curse 
He  cannot  be  compell'd  to  't, — once  remove 
The  root  of  his  opinion,  which  is  rotten 
As  ever  oak  or  stone  was  sound. 

Leon.  A  callat  90 

Of  boundless  tongue,  who  late  hath  beat  her  husband 
And  now  baits  me  !     This  brat  is  none  of  mine  ; 
It  is  the  issue  of  Polixenes : 
Hence  with  it,  and  together  with  the  dam 
Commit  them  to  the  fire ! 

Paul.  It  is  yours  ; 

And,  might  we  lay  the  old  proverb  to  your  charge, 

60 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  II.  Sc.  iii. 

So  like  you,  'tis  the  worse.    Behold,  my  lords, 

Although  the  print  be  little,  the  whole  matter 

And  copy  of  the  father,  eye,  nose,  lip ;  99 

The  trick  of  's  frown  ;  his  forehead  ;   nay,  the  valley, 

The  pretty  dimples  of  his  chin  and  cheek  ;  his  smiles  ; 

The  very  mould  and  frame  of  hand,  nail,  finger: 

And  thou,  good  goddess  Nature,  which  hast  made  it 

So  like  to  him  that  got  it,  if  thou  hast 

The  ordering  of  the  mind  too,  'mongst  all  colours 

No  yellow  in  't,  lest  she  suspect,  as  he  does, 

Her  children  not  her  husband's ! 
Leon.  A  gross  hag! 

And,  lozel,  thou  art  worthy  to  be  hang'd, 

That  wilt  not  stay  her  tongue. 
Ant.  Hang  all  the  husbands   no 

That  cannot  do  that  feat,  you  '11  leave  yourself 

Hardly  one  subject. 
Leon.  Once  more,  take  her  hence. 

Paul.  A  most  unworthy  and  unnatural  lord 

Can  do  no  more. 
Leon.  I  '11  ha'  thee  burnt. 

Paul.  I  care  not : 

It  is  an  heretic  that  makes  the  fire. 

Not  she  which  burns  in  't.    I  '11  not  call  you  tyrant ; 

But  this  most  cruel  usage  of  your  queen — 

Not  able  to  produce  more  accusation 

Than     your    own     weak-hinged     fancy — something 
savours 

Of  tyranny,  and  will  ignoble  make  you,  120 

Yea,  scandalous  to  the  world. 
Leon.  On  your  allegiance, 

Out  of  the  chamber  with  her !    Were  I  a  tyrant, 
6t 


Act  II.  Sc.  iii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Where  were  her  Hf e  ?  she  durst  not  call  me  so, 
If  she  did  know  me  one.    Away  with  her ! 

Paul.  I  pray  you,  do  not  push  me ;   I  '11  be  gone. 

Look  to  your  babe,  my  lord  ;  'tis  yours  :  Jove  send 

her 
A  better  guiding  spirit !  What  needs  these  hands  ? 
You,  that  are  thus  so  tender  o'er  his  follies, 
Will  never  do  him  good,  not  one  of  you. 
So,  so:  farewell;  we  are  gone.  [Exit. 

Leon.  Thou,  traitor,  hast  set  on  thy  wife  to  this.  131 

My  child  ?  away  with  't !    Even  thou,  that  hast 
A  heart  so  tender  o'er  it,  take  it  hence 
And  see  it  instantly  consumed  with  fire ; 
Even  thou  and  none  but  thou.    Take  it  up  straight : 
Within  this  hour  bring  me  word  'tis  done. 
And  by  good  testimony,  or  I  '11  seize  thy  Hfe, 
With  what  thou  else  call'st  thine.     If  thou  refuse 
And  wilt  encounter  with  my  wrath,  say  so ; 
The  bastard  brains  with  these  my  proper  hands      140 
Shall  I  dash  out.    Go,  take  it  to  the  fire ; 
For  thou  set'st  on  thy  wife. 

Ant.  I  did  not,  sir: 

These  lords,  my  noble  fellows,  if  they  please, 
Can  clear  me  in  't. 

Lords.  We  can  :   my  royal  liege, 

He  is  not  guilty  of  her  coming  hither. 

Leon.  You  're  liars  all. 

First  Lord.  Beseech  your  highness,  give  us  better  credit : 
We  have  always  truly  served  you ;    and  beseech  you 
So  to  esteem  of  us :  and  on  our  knees  we  beg, 
As  recompense  of  our  dear  services  150 

Past  and  to  come,  that  you  do  change  this  purpose, 
62 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  II.  Sc.  iii. 

Which  being  so  horrible,  so  bloody,  must 
Lead  on  to  some  foul  issue :  we  all  kneel. 

Leon.  I  am  a  feather  for  each  wind  that  blows : 
Shall  I  live  on  to  see  this  bastard  kneel 
And  call  me  father?  better  burn  it  now 
Than  curse  it  then.     But  be  it ;   let  it  live. 
It  shall  not  neither.     You,  sir,  come  you  hither ; 
You  that  have  been  so  tenderly  officious 
With  Lady  Margery,  your  midwife  there,  i6o 

To  save  this  bastard's  life, — for  'tis  a  bastard. 
So  sure  as  this  beard  's  grey, — what  will  you  adven- 
ture 
To  save  this  brat's  life  ? 

Ant.  Any  thing,  my  lord, 

That  my  ability  may  undergo. 
And  nobleness  impose :  at  least  thus  much  : 
I  '11  pawn  the  little  blood  which  I  have  left 
To  save  the  innocent :   any  thing  possible. 

Leon.  It  shall  be  possible.     Swear  by  this  sword 
Thou  wilt  perform  my  bidding. 

Ant.  I  will,  my  lord. 

Leon.  Mark  and  perform  it :   seest  thou  ?  for  the  fail  170 
Of  any  point  in  't  shall  not  only  be 
Death  to  thyself  but  to  thy  lewd-tongued  wife. 
Whom  for  this  time  we  pardon.     We  enjoin  thee, 
As  thou  art  liege-man  to  us,  that  thou  carry 
This  female  bastard  hence,  and  that  thou  bear  it 
To  some  remote  and  desert  place,  quite  out 
Of  our  dominions ;    and  that  there  thou  leave  it. 
Without  more  mercy,  to  it  own  protection 
And  favour  of  the  climate.     As  by  strange  fortune 
It  came  to  us,  I  do  in  justice  charge  thee,  180 

On  thy  soul's  peril  and  thy  body's  torture, 

^3 


Act  II.  Sc.  iii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

That  thou  commend  it  strangely  to  some  place 
Where  chance  may  nurse  or  end  it.     Take  it  up. 

Ant.  I  swear  to  do  this,  though  a  present  death 

Had  been  more  merciful.     Come  on,  poor  babe : 
Some  powerful  spirit  instruct  the  kites  and  ravens 
To  be  thy  nurses  !     Wolves  and  bears,  they  say, 
Casting  their  savageness  aside  have  done 
Like  offices  of  pity.     Sir,  be  prosperous 
In  more  than  this  deed  does  require !     And  blessing 
Against  this  cruelty  fight  on  thy  side,  191 

Poor  thing,  condemn'd  to  loss  !     [Exit  with  the  child. 

Leon.  No,  I  '11  not  rear 

Another's  issue. 

Enter  a  Servant. 

Serv.  Please  your  highness,  posts 

From  those  you  sent  to  the  oracle  are  come 
An  hour  since :   Cleomenes  and  Dion, 
Being  well  arrived  from  Delphos,  are  both  landed. 
Hasting  to  the  court. 

First  Lord.  So  please  you,  sir,  their  speed 

Hath  been  beyond  account. 

Leon.  Twenty  three  days 

They  have  been  absent :   'tis  good  speed ;   foretells 

The  great  Apollo  suddenly  will  have  200 

The  truth  of  this  appear.     Prepare  you,  lords ; 

Summon  a  session,  that  we  may  arraign 

Our  most  disloyal  lady ;   for,  as  she  hath 

Been  publicly  accused,  so  shall  she  have 

A  just  and  open  trial.     While  she  lives 

My  heart  will  be  a  burthen  to  me.     Leave  me, 

And  think  upon  my  bidding.  {Exeunt. 

64 


THE  WINTER*S  TALE  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

ACT  THIRD. 

Scene  I. 

A  seaport  in  Sicilia. 
Enter  Cleomenes  and  Dion. 

Cleo.  The  climate  's  delicate,  the  air  most  sweet, 
Fertile  the  isle,  the  temple  much  surpassing 
The  common  praise  it  bears. 

Dion.  I  shall  report. 

For  most  it  caught  me,  the  celestial  habits, 
Methinks  I  so  should  term  them,  and  the  reverence 
Of  the  grave  wearers.     O,  the  sacrifice ! 
How  ceremonious,  solemn  and  unearthly- 
It  was  i'  the  offering. 

Cleo.  But  of  all,  the  burst 

And  the  ear-deafening  voice  o'  the  oracle, 
Kin  to  Jove's  thunder,  so  surprised  my  sense,  lo 

That  I  was  nothing. 

Dion.  If  the  event  o'  the  journey 

Prove  as  successful  to  the  queen, — O  be  't  so ! — 
As  it  hath  been  to  us  rare,  pleasant,  speedy. 
The  time  is  worth  the  use  on  't. 

Cleo.  Great  Apollo 

Turn  all  to  the  best !     These  proclamations, 
So  forcing  faults  upon  Hermione, 
I  little  like. 

Dion.  The  violent  carriage  of  it 

Will  clear  or  end  the  business :   when  the  oracle, 
Thus  by  Apollo's  great  divine  seal'd  up. 
Shall  the  contents  discover,  something  rare  20 

Even    then    will    rush    to    knowledge.     Go:     fresh 

horses ! 
And  gracious  be  the  issue.  {Exeunt. 

65 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Scene  II. 

A  court  of  Justice. 
Enter  Leontes,  Lords,  and  Officers. 

Leon.  This  sessions,  to  our  great  grief  we  pronounce, 
Even  pushes  'gainst  our  heart :   the  party  tried 
The  daughter  of  a  king,  our  wife,  and  one 
Of  us  too  much  beloved.     Let  us  be  clear'd 
Of  being  tyrannous,  since  we  so  openly 
Proceed  in  justice,  which  shall  have  due  course, 
Even  to  the  guilt  or  the  purgation. 
Produce  the  prisoner. 

Off.  It  is  his  highness'  pleasure  that  the  queen 

Appear  in  person  here  in  court.     Silence !  lo 

Enter  Hermionc,  guarded;   Patdina  and  Ladies 
attending. 

Leon.  Read  the  indictment. 

Off.  [Reads]  Hermione,  queen  to  the  worthy  Leon- 
tes, king  of  Sicilia,  thou  art  here  accused  and  ar- 
raigned of  high  treason,  in  committing  adultery 
with  Polixenes,  king  of  Bohemia,  and  conspiring 
with  Camillo  to  take  away  the  life  of  our  sov- 
ereign lord  the  king,  thy  royal  husband:  the 
pretence  whereof  being  by  circumstances  partly 
laid  open,  thou,  Hermione,  contrary  to  the  faith 
and  allegiance  of  a  true  subject,  didst  counsel  20 
and  aid  them,  for  their  better  safety,  to  fly  away 
by  night. 

Her.  Since  what  I  am  to  say  must  be  but  that 
Which  contradicts  my  accusation,  and 
The  testimony  on  my  part  no  other 
But  what  comes  from  myself,  it  shall  scarce  boot  me 
To  say  '  not  guilty  ' :  mine  integrity, 

66 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

Being  counted  falsehood,  shall,  as  I  express  it, 
Be  so  received.    But  thus,  if  powers  divine 
Behold  our  human  actions,  as  they  do,  30 

I  doubt  not  then  but  innocence  shall  make 
False  accusation  blush,  and  tyranny 
Tremble  at  patience.    You,  my  lord,  best  know, 
Who  least  will  seem  to  do  so,  my  past  life 
Hath  been  as  continent,  as  chaste,  as  true. 
As  I  am  now  unhappy ;   which  is  more 
Than  history  can  pattern,  though  devised 
And  play'd  to  take  spectators.    For  behold  me 
A  fellow  of  the  royal  bed,  which  owe 
A  moiety  of  the  throne,  a  great  king's  daughter,      40 
The  mother  to  a  hopeful  prince,  here  standing 
To  prate  and  talk  for  life  and  honour  'fore 
Who  please  to  come  and  hear.     For  life,  I  prize  it 
As  I  weigh  grief,  which  I  would  spare :  for  honour, 
'Tis  a  derivative  from  me  to  mine. 
And  only  that  I  stand  for.    I  appeal 
To  your  own  conscience,  sir,  before  Polixenes 
Came  to  your  court,  how  I  was  in  your  grace, 
How  merited  to  be  so ;   since  he  came. 
With  what  encounter  so  uncurrent  I  5^ 

Have  strain'd,  to  appear  thus  :   if  one  jot  beyond 
The  bound  of  honour,  or  in  act  or  will 
That  way  inclining,  harden 'd  be  the  hearts 
Of  all  that  hear  me,  and  my  near'st  of  kin 
Cry  fie  upon  my  grave ! 
Leon.  I  ne'er  heard  yet 

That  any  of  these  bolder  vices  wanted 
Less  impudence  to  gainsay  what  they  did 
Than  to  perform  it  first. 

67 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Her.  That 's  true  enough ; 

Though  'tis  a  saying,  sir,  not  due  to  me. 
Leon.  You  will  not  own  it. 
Her.  More  than  mistress  of  60 

Which  comes  to  me  in  name  of  fault,  I  must  not 

At  all  acknowledge.     For  Polixenes, 

With  whom  I  am  accused,  I  do  confess 

I  loved  him  as  in  honour  he  required. 

With  such  a  kind  of  love  as  might  become 

A  lady  like  me,  with  a  love  even  such. 

So  and  no  other,  as  yourself  commanded : 

Which  not  to  have  done  I  think  had  been  in  me 

Both  disobedience  and  ingratitude 

To  you  and  toward  your  friend;    whose  love  had 
spoke,  70 

Even  since  it  could  speak,  from  an  infant,  freely 

That  it  was  yours.    Now,  for  conspiracy, 

I  know  not  how  it  tastes ;  though  it  be  dish'd 

For  me  to  try  how  :  all  I  know  of  it 

Is  that  Camillo  was  an  honest  man ; 

And  why  he  left  your  court,  the  gods  themselves, 

Wotting  no  more  than  I,  are  ignorant. 
Leon.  You  knew  of  his  departure,  as  you  know 

What  you  have  underta'en  to  do  in  's  absence. 
Her.  Sir,  80 

You  speak  a  language  that  I  understand  not : 

My  life  stands  in  the  level  of  your  dreams, 

Which  I  '11  lay  down. 
Leon.  Your  actions  are  my  dreams ; 

You  had  a  bastard  by  PoHxenes, 

And  I  but  dream'd  it.    As  you  were  past  all  shame, — 

Those  of  your  fact  are  so, — so  past  all  truth : 

68 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

Which  to  deny  concerns  more  than  avails ;  for  as 
Thy  brat  hath  been  cast  out,  Uke  to  itself, 
No  father  owning  it, — which  is,  indeed, 
More  criminal  in  thee  than  it,— so  thou  9^ 

Shalt  feel  our  justice,  in  whose  easiest  passage 
Look  for  no  less  than  death. 
jjgy^  Sir,  spare  your  threats  : 

The  bug  which  you  would  fright  me  with  I  seek. 
To  me  can  life  be  no  commodity : 
The  crown  and  comfort  of  my  life,  your  favour, 
I  do  give  lost ;  for  I  do  feel  it  gone. 
But  know  not  how  it  went.     My  second  joy 
And  first-fruits  of  my  body,  from  his  presence 
I  am  barr'd,  like  one  infectious.     My  third  comfort, 
Starr'd  most  unluckily,  is  from  my  breast,  lOO 

The  innocent  milk  in  its  most  innocent  mouth. 
Haled  out  to  murder :  myself  on  every  post 
Proclaim' d  a  strumpet :  with  immodest  hatred 
The  child-bed  privilege  denied,  which  'longs 
To  women  of  all  fashion ;   lastly,  hurried 
Here  to  this  place,  i'  the  open  air,  before 
I  have  got  strength  of  limit.     Now,  my  liege, 
Tell  me  what  blessings  I  have  here  alive, 
That  I  should  fear  to  die?     Therefore  proceed. 
But  yet  hear  this ;   mistake  me  not;   no  Ufe,  no 

I  prize  it  not  a  straw,  but  for  mine  honour. 
Which  I  would  free,  if  I  shall  be  condemn'd 
Upon  surmises,  all  proofs  sleeping  else 
But  what  your  jealousies  awake,  I  tell  you 
'Tis  rigour  and  not  law.     Your  honours  all, 
I  do  refer  me  to  the  oracle : 
Apollo  be  my  judge! 

69 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

First  Lord.  This  your  request 

Is  altogether  just :  therefore  bring  forth, 
And  in  Apollo's  name,  his  oracle. 

[Exeunt  certain  Officers. 

Her.  The  Emperor  of  Russia  was  my  father :  120 

O  that  he  were  alive,  and  here  beholding 
His  daughter's  trial !  that  he  did  but  see 
The  flatness  of  my  misery,  yet  with  eyes 
Of  pity,  not  revenge! 

Re-enter  Officers,  zvith  Cleomenes  and  Dion. 

Off.  You  here  shall  swear  upon  this  sword  of  justice. 
That  you,  Cleomenes  and  Dion,  have 
Been  both  at  Delphos,  and  from  thence  have  brought 
This  seal'd-up  oracle,  by  the  hand  deliver'd 
Of  great  Apollo's  priest,  and  that  since  then 
You  have  not  dared  to  break  the  holy  seal  130 

Nor  read  the  secrets  in  't. 

Cleo.  Dion.  All  this  we  swear. 

Leon.  Break  up  the  seals  and  read. 

Off.  [Reads]  Hermione  is  chaste  ;  PoHxenes  blame- 
less ;  Camillo  a  true  subject;  Leontes  a  jealous 
tyrant ;  his  innocent  babe  truly  begotten ;  and 
the  king  shall  live  without  an  heir,  if  that  which 
is  lost  be  not  found. 

Lords.  Now  blessed  be  the  great  Apollo ! 

Her.  Praised ! 

Leon.  Hast  thou  read  truth  ? 

Off.  Ay,  my  lord;    even  so 

As  it  is  here  set  down.  140 

Leon.  There  is  no  truth  at  all  i'  the  oracle : 

The  sessions  shall  proceed :  this  is  mere  falsehood. 

70 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

Enter  Servant. 

Serv.  My  lord  the  king,  the  king ! 

Leon.  What  is  the  business  ? 

Serv.  O  sir,  I  shall  be  hated  to  report  it ! 

The  prince  your  son,  with  mere  conceit  and  fear 
Of  the  queen's  speed,  is  gone. 

Leon.  How!   gone! 

Serv.  Is  dead. 

Leon.  Apollo  's  angry ;  and  the  heavens  themselves 
Do  strike  at  my  injustice.  [Hermionc  faints.] 

How  now  there ! 

Paul.  This  news  is  mortal  to  the  queen :   look  down 
And  see  what  death  is  doing. 

Leon.  Take  her  hence :         150 

Her  heart  is  but  o'ercharged ;   she  will  recover : 
I  have  too  much  believed  mine  own  suspicion : 
Beseech  you,  tenderly  apply  to  her 
Some  remedies  for  Hfe. 

[Exeiint  Paulina  and  Ladies  zvith  Hermione. 
Apollo,  pardon 
My  great  profaneness  'gainst  thine  oracle  ! 
I  '11  reconcile  me  to  Polixenes ; 
New  woo  my  queen ;   recall  the  good  Camillo, 
Whom  I  proclaim  a  man  of  truth,  of  mercy ; 
For,  being  transported  by  my  jealousies 
To  bloody  thoughts  and  to  revenge,  I  chose  160 

Camillo  for  the  minister  to  poison 
My  friend  Polixenes :    which  had  been  done, 
But  that  the  good  mind  of  Camillo  tardied 
My  swift  command,  though  I  with  death  and  with 
Reward  did  threaten  and  encourage  him, 
Not  doing  it  and  being  done :  he,  most  humane 

71 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

And  fill'd  with  honour,  to  my  kingly  guest 

Unclasp'd  my  practice,  quit  his  fortunes  here, 

Which  you  knew  great,  and  to  the  hazard 

Of  all  incertainties  himself  commended,  170 

No  richer  than  his  honour :  how  he  glisters 

Thorough  my  rust !   and  how  his  piety 

Does  my  deeds  make  the  blacker! 

Re-enter  Paulina. 

Paid.  Woe  the  while! 

O,  cut  my  lace,  lest  my  heart,  cracking  it. 
Break  too! 

First  Lord.         What  fit  is  this,  good  lady  ? 

Paul.  What  studied  torments,  tyrant,  hast  for  me? 

What  wheels  ?  racks  ?  fires  ?  what  flaying  ?  boiling  ? 
In  leads  or  oils  ?  what  old  or  newer  torture 
Must  I  receive,  whose  every  word  deserves 
To  taste  of  thy  most  worst?     Thy  tyranny  180 

Together  working  with  thy  jealousies, 
Fancies  too  weak  for  boys,  too  green  and  idle 
For  girls  of  nine,  O,  think  what  they  have  done 
And  then  run  mad  indeed,  stark  mad !  for  all 
Thy  by-gone  fooleries  were  but  spices  of  it. 
That  thou  betray'dst  Polixenes,  'twas  nothing ; 
That  did  but  show  thee,  of  a  fool,  inconstant 
And  damnable  ingrateful :   nor  was  't  much, 
Thou  wouldst  have  poison'd  good  Camillo's  honour 
To  have  him  kill  a  king ;  poor  trespasses,  190 

More  monstrous  standing  by :  whereof  I  reckon 
The  casting  forth  to  crows  thy  baby-daughter 
To  be  or  none  or  little ;   though  a  devil 
Would  have  shed  water  out  of  fire  ere  done  't : 

72 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

Nor  is  't  directly  laid  to  thee,  the  death 

Of  the  young  prince,  whose  honourable  thoughts, 

Thoughts  high  for  one  so  tender,  cleft  the  heart 

That  could  conceive  a  gross  and  foolish  sire 

Blemish'd  his  gracious  dam :  this  is  not,  no. 

Laid  to  thy  answer :  but  the  last, — O  lords,  200 

When  I  have  said,  cry  *  woe ! ' — the  queen,  the  queen, 

The  sweet' St,  dear'st  creature  's  dead,  and  vengeance 

for't 
Not  dropp'd  down  yet. 
First  Lord.  The  higher  powers  forbid  ! 

Paul.  I  say  she  's  dead,  I  '11  swear  't.    If  word  nor  oath 
Prevail  not,  go  and  see ;  if  you  can  bring 
Tincture  or  lustre  in  her  lip,  her  eye, 
Heat  outwardly  or  breath  within,  I  '11  serve  you 
As  I  would  do  the  gods.    But,  O  thou  tyrant ! 
Do  not  repent  these  things,  for  they  are  heavier 
Than  all  thy  woes  can  stir :  therefore  betake  thee 
To  nothing  but  despair.    A  thousand  knees  211 

Ten  thousand  years  together,  naked,  fasting, 
Upon  a  barren  mountain,  and  still  winter 
In  storm  perpetual,  could  not  move  the  gods 
To  look  that  way  thou  wert. 

Leon.  Go  on,  go  on : 

Thou  canst  not  speak  too  much  ;  I  have  deserved 
All  tongues  to  talk  their  bitterest. 

First  Lord.  Say  no  more : 

Howe'er  the  business  goes,  you  have  made  fault 
I'  the  boldness  of  your  speech. 

Paul.  I  am  sorry  for  't : 

All  faults  I  make,  when  I  shall  come  to  know  them, 
I  do  repent.    Alas !    I  show'd  too  much  221 

73 


Act  III.  Sc.  iii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

The  rashness  of  a  woman :   he  is  touch'd 

To  the  noble  heart.     What 's  gone  and  what 's  past 

help 
Should  be  past  grief :   do  not  receive  affliction 
At  my  petition  ;  I  beseech  you,  rather 
Let  me  be  punish'd,  that  have  minded  you 
Of  what  you  should  forget.    Now,  good  my  liege, 
Sir,  royal  sir,  forgive  a  foolish  woman : 
The  love  I  bore  your  queen,  lo,  fool  again ! 
I  '11  speak  of  her  no  more,  nor  of  your  children ;     230 
I  '11  not  remember  you  of  my  own  lord. 
Who  is  lost  too :  take  your  patience  to  you, 
And  I  '11  say  nothing. 
Leon.  Thou  didst  speak  but  well 

When  most  the  truth  ;  which  I  receive  much  better 

Than  to  be  pitied  of  thee.    Prithee,  bring  me 

To  the  dead  bodies  of  my  queen  and  son : 

One  grave  shall  be  for  both ;  upon  them  shall 

The  causes  of  their  death  appear,  unto 

Our  shame  perpetual.    Once  a  day  I  '11  visit 

The  chapel  where  they  lie,  and  tears  shed  there     240 

Shall  be  my  recreation  :  so  long  as  nature 

Will  bear  up  with  this  exercise,  so  long 

I  daily  vow  to  use  it.    Come  and  lead  me 

To  these  sorrows.  '  [Exeunt. 

Scene  III. 

Bohemia.    A  desert  country  near  the  sea. 

Enter  Antigomis  zvith  a  Child,  and  a  Mariner. 

Ant.  Thou  art  perfect,  then,  our  ship  hath  touch'd  upon 

The  deserts  of  Bohemia? 
Mar,  Ay,  my  lord ;  and  fear 

74 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  ill.  Sc.  iii. 

We  have  landed  in  ill  time  :  the  skies  look  grimly 
And  threaten  present  blusters.     In  my  conscience, 
The  heavens  with  that  we  have  in  hand  are  angry 
And  frown  upon  's. 

Ant.  Their  sacred  wills  be  done !    Go,  get  aboard ; 
Look  to  thy  bark  :  I  '11  not  be  long  before 
I  call  upon  thee. 

Alar.  Make  your  best  haste,  and  go  not  lo 

Too  far  i'  the  land  :  'tis  like  to  be  loud  weather ; 
Besides,  this  place  is  famous  for  the  creatures 
Of  prey  that  keep  upon  't. 

Ant.  Go  thou  away : 

I  '11  follow  instantly. 

Mar.  I  am  glad  at  heart 

To  be  so  rid  o'  the  business.  [Exit. 

Ant.  Come,  poor  babe : 

I  have  heard,  but  not  believed,  the  spirits  o'  the  dead 

May  walk  again  :  if  such  thing  be,  thy  mother 

Appear'd  to  me  last  night,  for  ne'er  was  dream 

So  like  a  waking.    To  me  comes  a  creature. 

Sometimes  her  head  on  one  side,  some  another ;      20 

I  never  saw  a  vessel  of  like  sorrow. 

So  fill'd  and  so  becoming :  in  pure  white  robes, 

Like  very  sanctity,  she  did  approach 

My  cabin  where  I  lay ;  thrice  bow'd  before  me, 

And,  gasping  to  begin  some  speech,  her  eyes 

Became  two  spouts  :  the  fury  spent,  anon 

Did  this  break  from  her :  '  Good  Antigonus, 

Since  fate,  against  thy  better  disposition. 

Hath  made  thy  person  for  the  thrower-out 

Of  my  poor  babe,  according  to  thine  oath,  30 

Places  remote  enough  are  in  Bohemia, 

75 


Act  III.  Sc.  iii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

There  weep  and  leave  it  crying ;  and,  for  the  babe 

Is  counted  lost  for  ever,  Perdita, 

I  prithee,  call 't.    For  this  ungentle  business, 

Put  on  thee  by  my  lord,  thou  ne'er  shalt  see 

Thy  wife  PauHna  more.'    And  so,  with  shrieks, 

She  melted  into  air.    Affrighted  much, 

I  did  in  time  collect  myself,  and  thought 

This  was  so,  and  no  slumber.    Dreams  are  toys : 

Yet  for  this  once,  yea,  superstitiously,  40 

I  will  be  squared  by  this.    I  do  believe 

Hermione  hath  suffered  death ;  and  that 

Apollo  would,  this  being  indeed  the  issue 

Of  King  Polixenes,  it  should  here  be  laid, 

Either  for  life  or  death,  upon  the  earth 

Of  its  right  father.    Blossom,  speed  thee  well ! 

There  lie,  and  there  thy  character :  there  these ; 

Which  may,  if  fortune  please,  both  breed  thee,  pretty, 

And  still  rest  thine.    The  storm  begins  :  poor  wretch. 

That  for  thy  mother's  fault  are  thus  exposed  50 

To  loss  and  what  may  follow !    Weep  I  cannot, 

But  my  heart  bleeds ;  and  most  accursed  am  I 

To  be  by  oath  enjoin'd  to  this.    Farewell ! 

The  day  frowns  more  and  more :  thou  'rt  like  to  have 

A  lullaby  too  rough  :   I  never  saw 

The  heavens  so  dim  by  day.    A  savage  clamour ! 

Well  may  I  get  aboard !    This  is  the  chase : 

I  am  gone  for  ever.  [Exit,  pursued  by  a  bear. 

Enter  a  Shepherd. 

Shep.  I  would  there  were  no  age  between  ten  and 

three-and-twenty,  or  that  youth  would  sleep  out     60 
76 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  III.  Sc.  iii. 

the  rest ;    for  there  is  nothing  in  the  between 
but  getting  wenches  with  child,  wronging  the 


ancientry,    steahng,    fighting — Hark    you    now 


Would  any  but  these  boiled  brains  of  nineteen 
and  two-and-twenty  hunt  this  weather?  They 
have  scared  away  two  of  my  best  sheep,  which  I 
fear  the  wolf  will  sooner  find  than  the  master: 
if  any  where  I  have  them,  'tis  by  the  sea-side, 
browsing  of  ivy.  Good  luck,  an  't  be  thy  will ! 
what  have  we  here?  IMercy  on  's,  a  barne  ;  very  70 
pretty  barne !  A  boy  or  a  child,  I  wonder  ?  A 
pretty  one  ;  a  very  pretty  one  :  sure,  some  scape : 
though  I  am  not  bookish,  yet  I  can  read  waiting- 
gentlewoman  in  the  scape.  This  has  been  some 
stair-work,  some  trunk-work,  some  behind-door- 
work  :  they  were  warmer  that  got  this  than  the 
poor  thing  is  here.  I  '11  take  it  up  for  pity  :  yet 
I  '11  tarry  till  my  son  come;  he  hallooed  but 
even  now.     Whoa,  ho,  hoa! 

Enter  Clozvn, 

Clo.  Hilloa,  loa !  80 

Shep.  What,  art  so  near?     If  thou  'It  see  a  thing  to 

talk  on  when  thou  art  dead  and  rotten,  come 

hither.     What  ailest  thou,  man? 
Clo.  I  have  seen  two  such  sights,  by  sea  and  by  land ! 

but  I  am  not  to  say  it  is  a  sea,  for  it  is  now  the 

sky :    betwixt  the  firmament  and  it  you  cannot 

thrust  a  bodkin's  point. 
Shep.  Why,  boy,  how  is  it  ? 
Clo.  I  would  you  did  but  see  how  it  chafes,  how  it 

rages,  how  it  takes  up  the  shore !  but  that 's  not    90 

77 


Act  III.  Sc.  iii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

to  the  point.  O,  the  most  piteous  cry  of  the 
poor  souls !  sometimes  to  see  'em,  and  not  to  see 
'em ;  now  the  ship  boring  the  moon  with  her 
main-mast,  and  anon  swallowed  with  yest  and 
froth,  as  you  'Id  thrust  a  cork  into  a  hogshead. 
And  then  for  the  land-service,  to  see  how  the 
bear  tore  out  his  shoulder-bone ;  how  he  cried 
to  me  for  help  and  said  his  name  was  Antigonus, 
a  nobleman.  But  to  make  an  end  of  the  ship,  to 
see  how  the  sea  flap-dragoned  it :  but,  first,  how  lOO 
the  poor  souls  roared,  and  the  sea  mocked  them ; 
and  how  the  poor  gentleman  roared  and  the  bear 
mocked  him,  both  roaring  louder  than  the  sea  or 
weather. 

Shep.  Name  of  mercy,  when  was  this,  boy? 

Clo.  Now,  now :  I  have  not  winked  since  I  saw  these 
sights :  the  men  are  not  yet  cold  under  water, 
nor  the  bear  half  dined  on  the  gentleman :  he  's 
at  it  now. 

Shep.  Would  I  had  been  by,  to  have  helped  the  old  no 
man! 

Clo.  I  would  you  had  been  by  the  ship  side,  to  have 
helped  her:  there  your  charity  would  have 
lacked  footing. 

Shep.  Heavy  matters  !  -heavy  matters  !  but  look  thee 
here,  boy.  Now  bless  thyself;  thou  mettest  with 
things  dying,  I  with  things  new-born.  Here  's 
a  sight  for  thee ;  look  thee,  a  bearing-cloth  for  a 
squire's  child !  look  thee  here  ;  take  up,  take  up, 
boy;  open 't.  So,  let's  see:  it  was  told  me  I  120 
should  be  rich  by  the  fairies.  This  is  some 
changeling :  open  't.     What 's  within,  boy  ? 

78 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

Clo,  You  're  a  made  old  man :  if  the  sins  of  your 
youth  are  forgiven  you,  vou  're  well  to  live. 
Gold!  all  gold! 

Shep.  This  is  fairy  gold,  boy,  and  'twill  prove  so : 
up  with  't,  keep  it  close :  home,  home,  the  next 
way.  We  are  lucky,  boy;  and  to  be  so  still  re- 
quires nothing  but  secrecy.  Let  my  sheep  go ; 
come,  good  boy,  the  next  way  home.  130 

Clo.  Go  you  the  next  way  with  your  findings.  I  '11 
go  see  if  the  bear  be  gone  from  the  gentleman 
and  how  much  he  hath  eaten :  they  are  never 
curst  but  when  they  are  hungry :  if  there  be  any 
of  him  left,  I  '11  bury  it. 

Shep.  That 's  a  good  deed.  If  thou  mayest  discern 
by  that  which  is  left  of  him  what  he  is,  fetch 
me  to  the  sight  of  him. 

Clo,  Marry,  will  I ;    and  you  shall  help  to  put  him 

i'  the  ground.  140 

Shep.  'Tis  a  lucky  day,  boy,  and  we  '11  do  good  deeds 

on  *t.  {Exeunt. 


ACT  FOURTH. 
Scene  I. 

Enter  Time,  the  Chorus. 

Time.  I,  that  please  some,  try  all,  both  joy  and  terror 
Of  good  and  bad,  that  makes  and  unfolds  error, 
Now  take  upon  me,  in  the  name  of  Time, 
To  use  my  wings.     Impute  it  not  a  crime 
To  me  or  my  swift  passage,  that  I  slide 

79 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

O'er  sixteen  years  and  leave  the  growth  untried 

Of  that  wide  gap,  since  it  is  in  my  power 

To  o'erthrow  law  and  in  one  self-born  hour 

To  plant  and  o'erwhelm  custom.     Let  me  pass 

The  same  I  am,  ere  ancient'st  order  was  lo 

Or  what  is  now  received :   I  witness  to 

The  times  that  brought  them  in  ;  so  shall  I  do 

To  the  freshest  things  now  reigning,  and  make  stale 

The  glistering  of  this  present,  as  my  tale 

Now  seems  to  it.     Your  patience  this  allowing, 

I  turn  my  glass  and  give  my  scene  such  growing 

As  you  had  slept  between  :  Leontes  leaving. 

The  effects  of  his  fond  jealousies  so  grieving 

That  he  shuts  up  himself,  imagine  me, 

Gentle  spectators,  that  I  now  may  be  20 

In  fair  Bohemia;   and  remember  well, 

I  mentioned  a  son  o'  the  king's,  which  Florizel 

I  now  name  to  you ;   and  with  speed  so  pace 

To  speak  of  Perdita,  now  grown  in  grace 

Equal  with  wondering :   what  of  her  ensues 

I  list  not  prophesy ;   but  let  Time's  news 

Be  known  when  'tis  brought  forth.     A  shepherd's 

daughter. 
And  what  to  her  adheres,  which  follows  after, 
Is  the  argument  of  Time.     Of  this  allow. 
If  ever  you  have  spent  time  worse  ere  now ;  30 

If  never,  yet  that  Time  himself  doth  say 
He  wishes  earnestly  you  never  may.  [Exit. 


80 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  IV.  Sc.  ii. 

Scene  II. 

Bohemia.     The  palace  of  Polixenes. 
Enter  Polixenes  and  Camillo. 

Pol.  I  pray  thee,  good  Camillo,  be  no  more  importu- 
nate :  'tis  a  sickness  denying  thee  any  thing ;  a 
death  to  grant  this. 

Cam.  It  is  fifteen  years  since  I  saw  my  country: 
though  I  have  for  the  most  part  been  aired 
abroad,  I  desire  to  lay  my  bones  there.  Besides, 
the  penitent  king,  my  master,  hath  sent  for  me ; 
to  whose  feeling  sorrows  I  might  be  some  allay, 
or  I  o'erween  to  think  so,  which  is  another  spur 
to  my  departure.  lo 

Pol.  As  thou  lovest  me,  Camillo,  wipe  not  out  the 
rest  of  thy  services  by  leaving  me  now ;  the 
need  I  have  of  thee,  thine  own  goodness  hath 
made;  better  not  to  have  had  thee  than  thus 
to  want  thee:  thou,  having  made  me  businesses, 
which  none  without  thee  can  sufficiently  manage, 
must  either  stay  to  execute  them  thyself,  or  take 
away  with  thee  the  very  services  thou  hast  done ; 
which  if  I  have  not  enough  considered,  as  too 
much  I  cannot,  to  be  more  thankful  to  thee  shall  20 
be  my  study ;  and  my  profit  therein,  the  heaping 
friendships.  Of  that  fatal  country,  Sicilia, 
prithee  speak  no  more  ;  whose  very  naming  pun- 
ishes me  with  the  remembrance  of  that  penitent, 
as  thou  callest  him,  and  reconciled  king,  my 
brother ;  whose  loss  of  his  most  precious  queen 
and  children  are  even  now  to  be  afresh  lamented. 
Say  to  me,  when  sawest  thou  the  Prince  Florizel, 

81 


Act  IV.  Sc.  ii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

my  son  ?     Kings  are  no  less  unhappy,  their  issue 
not  being  gracious,  than  they  are  in  losing  them     30 
when  they  have  approved  their  virtues. 

Cam.  Sir,  it  is  three  days  since  I  saw  the  prince. 
What  his  happier  affairs  may  be,  are  to  me  un- 
known :  but  I  have  missingly  noted,  he  is  of  late 
much  retired  from  court  and  is  less  frequent  to 
his  princely  exercises  than  formerly  he  hath  ap- 
peared. 

Pol  I  have  considered  so  much,  Camillo,  and  with 
some  care ;  so  far,  that  I  have  eyes  under  my 
service  which  look  upon  his  removedness ;  from 
whom  I  have  this  intelligence,  that  he  is  seldom  40 
from  the  house  of  a  most  homely  shepherd;  a 
man,  they  say,  that  from  very  nothing,  and  be- 
yond the  imagination  of  his  neighbours,  is  grown 
into  an  unspeakable  estate. 

'Cdfn.  I  have  heard,  sir,  of  such  a  man,  who  hath  a 
daughter  of  most  rare  note:  the  report  of  her 
is  extended  more  than  can  be  thought  to  begin 
from  such  a  cottage. 

Pol.  That 's  likewise  part  of  my  intelligence ;    but, 

I  fear,  the  angle  that  plucks  our  son  thither.  50 
Thou  shalt  accompany  us  to  the  place ;  where 
we  will,  not  appearing  what  we  are,  have  some 
question  with  the  shepherd ;  from  whose  sim- 
plicity I  think  it  not  uneasy  to  get  the  cause  of 
my  son's  resort  thither.  Prithee,  be  my  present 
partner  in  this  business,  and  lay  aside  the 
thoughts  of  Sicilia. 

Cam.  I  willingly  obey  your  command. 

Pol.  My  best  Camillo !     We  must  disguise  ourselves. 

[Exeunt. 
82 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  IV.  Sc.  iii. 

Scene  III. 

A  road  near  the  Shepherd's  cottage. 
Enter  Aiitolycus,  singing. 

When  daffodils  begin  to  peer, 

With  heigh !  the  doxy  over  the  dale, 

Why,  then  comes  in  the  sweet  o'  the  year ; 
For  the  red  blood  reigns  in  the  winter's  pale. 

The  white  sheet  bleaching  on  the  hedge, 

With  heigh !  the  sweet  birds,  O,  how  they  sing ! 

Doth  set  my  pugging  tooth  on  edge ; 
For  a  quart  of  ale  is  a  dish  for  a  king. 

The  lark,  that  tirra-lyra  chants, 

With  heigh  !  with  heigh  !  the  thrush  and  the  jay. 
Are  summer  songs  for  me  and  my  aunts,  1 1 

While  we  lie  tumbling  in  the  hay. 

I  have  served  Prince  Florizel  and  in  my  time- 
wore  three-pile;   but  now  I  am  out  of  service: 

But  shall  I  go  mourn  for  that,  my  dear  ? 

The  pale  moon  shines  by  night : 
And  when  I  wander  here  and  there, 

I  then  do  most  go  right. 

If  tinkers  may  have  leave  to  live. 

And  bear  the  sow-skin  budget,  20 

Then  my  account  I  well  may  give, 

And  in  the  stocks  avouch  it. 

My  traffic  is  sheets ;    when  the  kite  builds,  look 
to  lesser  linen.     My  father  named  me  Autolycus ; 

83 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

who  being,  as  I  am,  littered  under  Mercury,  was 
likewise  a  snapper-up  of  unconsidered  trifles. 
With  die  and  drab  I  purchased  this  caparison, 
and  my  revenue  is  the  silly  cheat.  Gallows  and 
knock  are  too  powerful  on  the  highway :  beat- 
ing and  hanging  are  terrors  to  me :  for  the  Hfe  30 
to  come,  I  sleep  out  the  thought  of  it.  A  prize ! 
a  prize ! 

Enter  Clown. 

Clo.  Let  me  see :  every  'leven  wether  tods ;  every 
tod  yields  pound  and  odd  shilling;  fifteen  hun- 
dred shorn,  what  comes  the  wool  to  ? 

Ant.    [Aside^   If  the  springe  hold,  the  cock  's  mine. 

Clo.  I  cannot  do 't  without  counters.  Let  me  see; 
what  am  I  to  buy  for  our  sheep-shearing  feast? 
Three  pound  of  sugar ;  five  pound  of  currants ; 
rice — what  will  this  sister  of  mine  do  with  rice?  40 
But  my  father  hath  made  her  mistress  of  the 
feast,  and  she  lays  it  on.  She  hath  made  me 
four  and  twenty  nosegays  for  the  shearers,  three- 
man  song-men  all,  and  very  good  ones  ;  but  they 
are  most  of  them  means  and  bases  ;  but  one  puri- 
tan amongst  them,  and  he  sings  psalms  to  horn- 
pipes. I  must  have  saffron  to  colour  the  warden 
pies  ;  mace ;  dates,  none,  that 's  out  of  my  note ; 
nutmegs,  seven ;  a  race  or  two  of  ginger,  but 
that  I  may  beg;  four  pound  of  prunes,  and  as  50 
many  of  raisins  o'  the  sun. 

A\it.  O  that  ever  I  was  born.      [Grovelling  on  the  ground. 

Clo.  r  the  name  of  me — 

Ant.  O,  help  me,  help  me !  pluck  but  off  these  rags ; 
and  then,  death,  death ! 

84 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  IV.  Sc.  iii. 

Clo.  Alack,  poor  soul !  thou  hast  need  of  more  rags 
to  lay  on  thee,  rather  than  have  these  off. 

Ant.  O  sir,  the  loathsomeness  of  them  offends  me 
more  than  the  stripes  I  have  received,  which  are 
mighty  ones  and  millions.  60 

Clo.  Alas,  poor  man !  a  million  of  beating  may  come 
to  a  great  matter. 

Aut.  I  am  robbed,  sir,  and  beaten  ;  my  money  and 
apparel  ta'en  from  me,  and  these  detestable 
things  put  upon  me. 

Clo.  What,  by  a  horseman,  or  a  footman  ? 

Atit.  A  footman,  sweet  sir,  a  footman. 

Clo.  Indeed,  he  should  be  a  footman  by  the  garments 
he  has  left  with  thee :    if  this  be  a  horseman's 
coat,  it  hath  seen  very  hot  service.     Lend  me     70 
thy  hand,   I  '11  help  thee :    come,   lend  me  thy 
hand.  [Helping  him  up. 

Aut.  O,  good  sir,  tenderly,  O  ! 

Clo.  Alas,  poor  soul ! 

Aut.  O,  good  sir,  softly,  good  sir!  I  fear,  sir,  my 
shoulder-blade  is  out. 

Clo.  How  now !  canst  stand  ? 

Aut.  Softly,  dear  sir  [picks  his  pocket]  ;  good  sir, 
softly.     You  ha'  done  me  a  charitable  office. 

Clo.  Dost  lack  any  money  ?     I  have  a  little  money  for     80 
thee. 

Aut.  No,  good  sweet  sir:  no,  I  beseech  you,  sir:  I 
have  a  kinsman  not  past  three  quarters  of  a  mile 
hence,  unto  whom  I  was  going ;  I  shall  there 
have  money,  or  any  thing  I  want :  offer  me  no 
money,  I  pray  you  ;  that  kills  my  heart. 

Clo,  What  manner  of  fellow  was  he  that  robbed  you  ? 

85 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Aut.  A  fellow,  sir,  that  I  have  known  to  go  about 
with  troll-my-dames :    I  knew  him  once  a  serv- 
ant of  the  prince:    I  cannot  tell,  good  sir,  for     90 
which  of  his  virtues  it  was,  but  he  was  certainly 
whipped  out  of  the  court. 

Clo.  His  vices,  you  would  say ;  there  's  no  virtue 
whipped  out  of  the  court :  they  cherish  it  to 
make  it  stay  there ;  and  yet  it  will  no  more  but 
abide. 

Aut.  Vices  I  would  say,  sir.  I  know  this  man  well: 
he  hath  been  since  an  ape-bearer  ;  then  a  process- 
server,  a  bailiff ;  then  he  compassed  a  motion  of 
the  Prodigal  Son,  and  married  a  tinker's  wife  100 
within  a  mile  where  my  land  and  living  lies ; 
and,  having  flown  over  many  knavish  profes- 
sions, he  settled  only  in  rogue:  some  call  him 
Autolycus. 

Clo.  Out  upon  him !  prig,  for  my  life,  prig :  he 
haunts  wakes,  fairs  and  bear-baitings. 

Aut.  Very  true,  sir ;  he,  sir,  he ;  that 's  the  rogue 
that  put  me  into  this  apparel. 

Clo.  Not  a  more  cowardly  rogue  in  all  Bohemia :    if 

you  had  but  looked  big  and  spit  at  him,  he 'Id  no 
have  run. 

Aut.  I  must  confess  to  you,  sir,  I  am  no  fighter:  I 
am  false  of  heart  that  way;  and  that  he  knew, 
I  warrant  him. 

Clo.  How  do  you  now  ? 

Aut.  Sweet  sir,  much  better  than  I  was;  I  can  stand 
and  walk :  I  will  even  take  my  leave  of  you,  and 
pace  softly  towards  my  kinsman's. 

Clo.  Shall  I  bring  thee  on  the  way? 

86 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

Aut.  No,  good-faced  sir ;  no,  sweet  sir.  120 

Clo.  Then  fare  thee  well :    I  must  go  buy  spices  for 

our  sheep-shearing. 
Aiit.  Prosper  you,  sweet  sir!  [Exit  Clozvn.]  Your 
purse  is  not  hot  enough  to  purchase  your  spice. 
I  '11  be  with  you  at  your  sheep-shearing  too :  if  I 
make  not  this  cheat  bring  out  another  and  the 
shearers  prove  sheep,  let  me  be  unrolled  and  my 
name  put  in  the  book  of  virtue ! 

Song.  Jog  on,  jog  on,  the  foot-path  way, 

And  merrily  hent  the  stile-a :  130 

A  merry  heart  goes  all  the  day, 

Your  sad  tires  in  a  mile-a.  [Exit. 

Scene  IV. 

The  Shepherd's  cottage. 
Enter  Florizcl  and  Pcrdita. 

Flo.  These  your  unusual  weeds  to  each  part  of  you 
Do  give  a  life :  no  shepherdess,  but  Flora 
Peering  in  April's  front.     This  your  sheep-shearing 
Is  as  a  meeting  of  the  petty  gods. 
And  you  the  queen  on  't. 

Per.  Sir,  my  gracious  lord, 

To  chide  at  your  extremes  it  not  becomes  me: 
O,  pardon,  that  I  name  them !     Your  high  self. 
The  gracious  mark  o'  the  land,  you  have  obscured 
With  a  swain's  wearing,  and  me,  poor  lowly  maid. 
Most  goddess-like  prank'd  up :  but  that  our  feasts 
In  every  mess  have  folly  and  the  feeders  ii 

Digest  it  with  a  custom,  I  should  blush 

87 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

To  see  you  so  attired,  swoon,  I  think, 
To  show  myself  a  glass. 

Flo.  I  bless  the  time 

When  my  good  falcon  made  her  flight  across 
Thy  father's  ground. 

Per.  Now  Jove  afford  you  cause ! 

To  me  the  difference  forges  dread ;  your  greatness 
Hath  not  been  vised  to  fear.     Even  now  I  tremble 
To  think  your  father,  by  some  accident. 
Should  pass  this  way  as  you  did :  O,  the  Fates !       20 
How  would  he  look,  to  see  his  work,  so  noble, 
Vilely  bound  up  ?    What  would  he  say  ?    Or  how 
Should  I,  in  these  my  borrow'd  flaunts,  behold 
The  sternness  of  his  presence? 

Flo.  Apprehend 

Nothing  but  jollity.     The  gods  themselves, 
Humbling  their  deities  to  love,  have  taken 
The  shapes  of  beasts  upon  them :  Jupiter 
Became  a  bull,  and  bellow'd;   the  green  Neptune 
A  ram,  and  bleated ;   and  the  fire-robed  god. 
Golden  Apollo,  a  poor  humble  swain,  30 

As  I  seem  now.     Their  transformations 
Were  never  for  a  piece  of  beauty  rarer. 
Nor  in  a  way  so  chaste,  since  my  desires 
Run  not  before  mine  honour,  nor  my  lusts 
Burn  hotter  than  my  faith. 

Per.  O,  but,  sir. 

Your  resolution  cannot  hold,  when  'tis 
Opposed,  as  it  must  be,  by  the  power  of  the  king : 
•  One  of  these  two  must  be  necessities. 
Which  then  will  speak,  that  you  must  change  this 
purpose. 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

Or  I  my  life. 

Flo.  Thou  dearest  Perdita,  40 

With  these  forced  thoughts,  I  prithee,  darken  not 
The  mirth  o'  the  feast.     Or  I  '11  be  thine,  my  fair, 
Or  not  my  father's.     For  I  cannot  be 
Mine  own,  nor  any  thing  to  any,  if 
I  be  not  thine.     To  this  I  am  most  constant, 
Though  destiny  say  no.     Be  merry,  gentle ; 
Strangle  such  thoughts  as  these  with  any  thing 
That  you  behold  the  while.     Your  guests  are  coming : 
Lift  up  your  countenance,  as  it  were  the  day 
Of  celebration  of  that  nuptial  which  "  50 

We  two  have  sworn  shall  come. 

Per.  O  lady  Fortune, 

Stand  you  auspicious ! 

Flo.  See,  your  guests  approach  : 

Address  yourself  to  entertain  them  sprightly, 
And  let  's  be  red  with  mirth. 

Enter  Shepherd,  Clozmi,  Mopsa,  Dorcas,  and  others,  zuith 
Polixencs  and  Camillo  disguised. 

Shep.  Fie,  daughter !  when  my  old  wife  lived,  upon 
This  day  she  was  both  pantler,  butler,  cook, 
Both  dame  and  servant ;  welcomed  all,  served  all ; 
Would  sing  her  song  and  dance  her  turn  ;  now  here, 
At  upper  end  o'  the  table,  now  i'  the  middle ; 
On  his  shoulder,  and  his  ;  her  face  o'  fire  60 

With  labour  and  the  thing  she  took  to  quench  it, 
She  would  to  each  one  sip.     You  are  retired. 
As  if  you  were  a  feasted  one  and  not 
The  hostess  of  the  meeting :  pray  you,  bid 
These  unknown  friends  to  's  welcome ;   for  it  is 

89 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

A  way  to  make  us  better  friends,  more  known. 
Come,  quench  your  blushes  and  present  yourself 
That  which  you  are,  mistress  o'  the  feast :  come  on, 
And  bid  us  welcome  to  your  sheep-shearing, 
As  your  good  flock  shall  prosper. 

Per.  [To  Pol.]   Sir,  welcome:     70 

It  is  my  father's  will  I  should  take  on  me 
The  hostess-ship  o'  the  day.      [To   Cam.]     You're 

welcome,  sir. 
Give  me  those  flowers  there,  Dorcas.     Reverend  sirs. 
For  you  there  's  rosemary  and  rue ;   these  keep  - 
Seeming  and  savour  all  the  winter  long : 
Grace  and  remembrance  be  to  you  both. 
And  welcome  to  our  shearing! 

Pol.  Shepherdess, 

A  fair  one  are  you,  well  you  fit  our  ages 
With  flowers  of  winter. 

Per.  Sir,  the  year  growing  ancient. 

Not  yet  on  summer's  death,  nor  on  the  birth  80 

Of  trembling  winter,  the  fairest  flowers  o'  the  season 
Are  our  carnations  and  streak'd  gillyvors. 
Which  some  call  nature's  bastards :    of  that  kind 
Our  rustic  garden  's  barren ;   and  I  care  not 
To  get  slips  of  them. 

Pol.  Wherefore,  gentle  maiden, 

Do  you  neglect  them  ? 

Per,  For  I  have  heard  it  said 

There  is  an  art  which  in  their  piedness  shares 
With  great  creating  nature. 

Pol.  Say  there  be ; 

Yet  nature  is  made  better  by  no  mean. 
But  nature  makes  that  mean  :  so,  over  that  art         90 

90 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

Which  you  say  adds  to  nature,  is  an  art 

That    nature    makes.     You    see,    sweet    maid,    we 

marry 
A  gentler  scion  to  the  wildest  stock, 
And  make  conceive  a  bark  of  baser  kind 
By  bud  of  nobler  race:  this  is  an  art 
Which  does  mend  nature,  change  it  rather,  but 
The  art  itself  is  nature. 

Per.  So  it  is. 

Pol.  Then  make  your  garden  rich  in  gillyvors, 
And  do  not  call  them  bastards. 

Per.  I  '11  not  put 

The  dibble  in  earth  to  set  one  slip  of  them;  lOO 

No  more  than  were  I  painted  I  would  wish 
This  youth  should  say  'twere  well,  and  only  therefore 
Desire  to  breed  by  me.     Here  's  flowers  for  you; 
Hot  lavender,  mints,  savory,  marjoram; 
The  marigold,  that  goes  to  bed  wi'  the  sun 
And  with  him  rises  weeping;  these  are  flowers 
Of  middle  summer,  and  I  think  they  are  given 
To  men  of  middle  age.    You  're  very  welcome. 

Cam.  I  should  leave  grazing,  were  I  of  your  flock. 
And  only  live  by  gazing. 

Per.  Out,  alas!  no 

You  'Id  be  so  lean,  that  blasts  of  January 
Would  blow  you  through  and  through.     Now,  my 

fair'st  friend, 
I  would  I  had  some  flowers  o'  the  spring  that  might 
Become  your  time  of  day;   and  yours,  and  yours. 
That  wear  upon  your  virgin  branches  yet 
Your  maidenheads  growing:    O  Proserpina, 
For  the  flowers  now,  that  frighted  thou  let'st  fall 
From  Dis's  waggon!   daffodils, 

91 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

That  come  before  the  swallow  dares,  and  take 

The  winds  of  March  with  beauty;  violets  dim,     120 

But  sweeter  than  the  lids  of  Juno's  eyes 

Or  Cytherea's  breath;  pale  primroses, 

That  die  unmarried,  ere  they  can  behold 

Bright  Phoebus  in  his  strength,  a  malady 

Most  incident  to  maids;    bold  oxlips  and 

The  crown  imperial;  lilies  of  all  kinds. 

The  flower-de-luce  being  one!    O,  these  I  lack, 

To  make  you  garlands  of;    and  my  sweet  friend. 

To  strew  him  o'er  and  o'er! 

Flo.  What,  like  a  corse? 

Pe}\  No,  like  a  bank  for  love  to  lie  and  play  on;         130 
Not  like  a  corse;   or  if,  not  to  be  buried. 
But   quick   and  in   mine  arms.      Come,   take  your 

flowers : 
Methinks  I  play  as  I  have  seen  them  do 
In  Whitsun  pastorals:   sure  this  robe  of  mine 
Does  change  my  disposition. 

Flo.  What  you  do 

Still  betters  what  is  done.     When  you  speak,  sweet, 

I  'Id  have  you  do  it  ever:  when  you  sing, 

I  'Id  have  you  buy  and  sell  so,  so  give  alms. 

Pray  so;  and,  for  the  ordering  your  affairs. 

To  sing  them  too :   when  you  do  dance,  I  wish  you 

A  wave  o'  sea,  that  you  might  ever  do  141 

Nothing  but  that ;  move  still,  still  so, 

And  own  no  other  function:   each  your  doing. 

So  singular  in  each  particular. 

Crowns  what  you  are  doing  in  the  present  deeds, 

That  all  your  acts  are  queens. 

Per.  O  Doricles, 

92 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE    -  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

Your  praises  are  too  large :   but  that  your  youth, 
And  the  true  blood  which  peeps  fairly  through  't, 
Do  plainly  give  you  out  an  unstain'd  shepherd, 
With  wisdom  I  might  fear,  my  Doricles,  150 

You  woo'd  me  the  false  way. 

Flo.  I  think  you  have 

As  little  skill  to  fear  as  I  have  purpose 
To  put  you  to  't.     But  come  ;   our  dance,  I  pray : 
Your  hand,  my  Perdita :   so  turtles  pair, 
That  never  mean  to  part. 

Per.  I  '11  swear  for  'em. 

Pol.  This  is  the  prettiest  low-born  lass  that  ever 

Ran  on  the  green-sward :   nothing  she  does  or  seems 
But  smacks  of  something  greater  than  herself, 
Too  noble  for  this  place. 

Cam.  He  tells  her  something 

That  makes  her  blood  look  out :  good  sooth,  she  is 
The  queen  of  curds  and  cream. 

Clo.  Come  on,  strike  up  !     161 

Dor.  Mopsa  must  be  your  mistress :   marry,  garlic. 
To  mend  her  kissing  with ! 

Mop.  Now,  in  good  time! 

Clo.  Not  a  word,  a  word,  we  stand  upon  our  manners. 
Come,  strike  up ! 

[Music.     Here  a  dance  of  Shepherds  and  Shepherdesses. 

Pol.  Pray,  good  shepherd,  what  fair  swain  is  this 
Which  dances  with  your  daughter? 

Shep.  They  call  him  Doricles  ;  and  boasts  himself 
To  have  a  worthy  feeding :  but  I  have  it 
Upon  his  own  report  and  I  believe  it ;  170 

He  looks  like  sooth.     He  says  he  loves  my  daughter : 
I  think  so  too ;   for  never  gazed  the  moon 

93 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Upon  the  water,  as  he  '11  stand  and  read 
As  'twere  my  daughter's  eyes  :  and,  to  be  plain, 
I  think  there  is  not  half  a  kiss  to  choose 
Who  loves  another  best. 

Pol.  She  dances  featly. 

Shep.   So  she  does  any  thing ;  though  I  report  it, 
That  should  be  silent :   if  young  Doricles 
Do  light  upon  her,  she  shall  bring  him  that 
W^hich  he  not  dreams  of.  i8o 

Enter  Servant. 

Serv.  O  master,  if  you  did  but  hear  the  pedlar  at  the 
door,  you  would  never  dance  again  after  a  tabor 
and  pipe ;  no,  the  bagpipe  could  not  move  you : 
he  sings  several  tunes  faster  than  you  '11  tell 
money;  he  utters  them  as  he  had  eaten  ballads 
and  all  men's  ears  grew  to  his  tunes. 

Clo.  He  could  never  come  better ;  he  shall  come  in. 
I  love  a  ballad  but  even  too  well,  if  it  be  doleful 
matter  merrily  set  down,  or  a  very  pleasant  thing 
indeed  and  sung  lamentably.  190 

Serv.  He  hath  songs  for  man  or  woman,  of  all  sizes ; 
no  milliner  can  so  fit  his  customers  with  gloves : 
he  has  the  prettiest  love-songs  for  maids;  so 
without  bawdry,  which  is  strange ;  with  such 
delicate  burthens  of  dildos  and  fadings,  '  jump 
her  and  thump  her ;  '  and  where  some  stretch- 
mouthed  rascal  would,  as  it  were,  mean  mischief 
and  break  a  foul  gap  into  the  matter,  he  makes 
the  maid  to  answer  '  Whoop,  do  me  no  harm, 
good  man ' ;  puts  him  ofif,  slights  him,  with  200 
*  Whoop,  do  me  no  harm,  good  man.' 

94 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

Pol.  This  is  a  brave  fellow. 

Clo.  Believe  me,  thou  talkest  of  an  admirable  con- 
ceited fellow.     Has  he  any  unbraided  wares? 

Serv.  He  hath  ribbons  of  all  the  colours  i'  the  rain- 
bow; points  more  than  all  the  lawyers  in  Bo- 
hemia can  learnedly  handle,  though  they  come  to 
him  by  the  gross  :  inkles,  caddisses,  cambrics, 
lawns :  why,  he  sings  'em  over  as  they  were 
gods  or  goddesses;  you  would  think  a  smock  210 
were  a  she-angel,  he  so  chants  to  the  sleeve-hand 
and  the  work  about  the  square  on  't. 

Clo.  Pritheebringhimin  ;  and  let  him  approach  singing. 

Per.  Forewarn  him  that  he  use  no  scurrilous  words 

in  's  tunes.  [Exit  Servant. 

Clo.  You  have  of  these  pedlars,  that  have  more  in 
them  than  you  'Id  think,  sister. 

Per.  Ay,  good  brother,  or  go  about  to  think. 

Enter  Autolyciis,  singing. 

Lawn  as  white  as  driven  snow; 

Cypress  black  as  e'er  was  crow ;  220 

Gloves  as  sweet  as  damask  roses; 

Masks  for  faces  and  for  noses; 

Bugle  bracelet,  necklace  amber. 

Perfume  for  a  lady's  chamber; 

Golden  quoifs  and  stomachers, 

For  my  lads  to  give  their  dears; 

Pins  and  poking-sticks  of  steel, 

What  maids  lack  from  head  to  heel: 

Come  buy  of  m.e,  come;  come  buy,  come  buy; 

Buy,  lads,  or  else  your  lasses  cry:  230 

Come  buy. 

95 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Clo.  If  I  were  not  in  love  with  Mopsa,  thou  shouldst 
take  no  money  of  me;  but  being  enthralled  as  I 
am,  it  will  also  be  the  bondage  of  certain  rib- 
bons and  gloves. 

Mop.  I  was  promised  them  against  the  feast;  but 
the}^  come  not  too  late  now. 

Dor.  He  hath  promised  you  more  than  that,  or  there 
be  liars. 

Mop.  He  hath  paid  you  all  he  promised  you:    may  240 
be,  he  has  paid  you  more,  which  will  shame  you 
to  give  him  again. 

Clo.  Is  there  no  manners  left  among  maids?  will  they 
wear  their  plackets  where  they  should  bear  their 
faces?  Is  there  not  milking-time,  when  you  are 
going  to  bed,  or  kiln-hole,  to  whistle  off  these 
secrets,  but  you  must  be  tittle-tattling  before 
all  our  guests?  'tis  well  they  are  whispering: 
clamour  your  tongues,  and  not  a  word  more. 

Mop.  I  have  done.  Come,  you  promised  me  a  tawdry-  250 
lace  and  a  pair  of  sweet  gloves. 

Clo.  Have  I  not  told  thee  how  I  was  cozened  by  the 
way  and  lost  all  my  money? 

Aut.  And  indeed,  sir,  there  are  cozeners  abroad; 
therefore  it  behoves  men  to  be  wary. 

Clo.   Fear  not  thou,  man,  thou  shalt  lose  nothing  here. 

Aut.  I  hope  so,  sir;  for  I  have  about  me  many  par- 
cels of  charge. 

Clo.  What  hast  here?  ballads? 

Mop.  Pray  now,  buy  some:    I  love  a  ballad  in  print  260 
o'  life,  for  then  we  are  sure  they  are  true. 

Aut.  Here 's  one  to  a  very  doleful  tune,  how  a 
usurer's  wife  was  brought  to  bed   of  twenty 

96 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

money-bags  at  a  burthen,  and  how  she  longed 
to  eat  adders'  heads  and  toads  carbonadoed. 

Mop,  Is  it  true,  think  you  ? 

j^it.  Very  true,  and  but  a  month  old. 

Dor.  Bless  me  from  marrying  a  usurer ! 

Aut.  Here  's  the  midwife's  name  to  't,  one  Mistress 

Tale-porter,  and  five  or  six  honest  wives  that  270 
were  present.     Why  should  I  carry  lies  abroad  ? 

Mop.  Pray  you  now,  buy  it. 

Clo.  Come  on,   lay  it  by ;    and  let 's  first   see  moe 
ballads ;   we  '11  buy  the  other  things  anon. 

Aiit.  Here  's  another  ballad  of  a  fish,  that  appeared 
upon  the  coast,  on  Wednesday  the  fourscore  of 
April,  forty  thousand  fathom  above  water,  and 
sung  this  ballad  against  the  hard  hearts  of 
maids :  it  was  thought  she  was  a  woman,  and 
was  turned  into  a  cold  fish  for  she  would  not  280 
exchange  flesh  with  one  that  loved  her :  the 
ballad  is  very  pitiful  and  as  true. 

Dor.  Is  it  true  too,  think  you  ? 

Aut.  Five  justices'  hands  at  it,  and  witnesses  more 
than  my  pack  will  hold. 

Clo.  Lay  it  by  too :  another. 

Aut.  This  is  a  merry  ballad,  but  a  very  pretty  one. 

Mop.  Let  's  have  some  merry  ones. 

Aut.  Why,  this  is  a  passing  merry  one  and  goes  to 

the  tune  of  '  Two  maids  wooing  a  man  : '  there  's  290 
scarce  a  maid  westward  but  she  sings  it ;    'tis  in 
request,  I  can  tell  you. 

Mop.  We  can  both  sing  it :    if  thou  'It  bear  a  part, 
thou  shalt  hear ;    'tis  in  three  parts. 

Dor.  We  had  the  tune  on  't  a  month  ago. 

97 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Aut.  I  can  bear  my  part ;  you  must  know  'tis  my  oc- 
cupation :   have  at  it  with  you. 

Song.  ^ 

A.     Get  you  hence,  for  I  must  go 
Where  it  fits  not  vou  to  know. 

D.  Whither?     If.  O,   whither?     D.  Whither? 
M.     It  becomes  thy  oath  full  well,  301 

Thou  to  me  thy  secrets  tell : 
D.  Me  too,  let  me  go  thither. 

M,    Or  thou  goest  to  the  grange  or  mill : 
D.     If  to  either,  thou  dost  ill. 

A.  Neither.     D.  What,  neither?     A.  Neither. 
D.     Thou  hast  sworn  my  love  to  be ; 
M.    Thou  hast  sworn  it  more  to  me : 
Then  whither  goest  ?   say,  whither  ? 

Clo.  We'll  have  this  song  out  anon  by  ourselves:  310 
my  father  and  the  gentlemen  are  in  sad  talk, 
and  we  '11  not  trouble  them.  Come,  bring  away 
thy  pack  after  me.  Wenches,  I  '11  buy  for  you 
both.  Pedlar,  let 's  have  the  first  choice.  Fol- 
low me,  girls.  [Exit  zvith  Dorcas  and  Mopsa. 

Aut.  And  you  shall  pay  well  for  'em.       [Follozvs  singing. 

W^ill  you  buy  any  tape. 

Or  lace  for  your  cape. 
My  dainty  duck,  my  dear-a? 

Any  silk,  any  thread,  320 

Any  toys  for  your  head, 
Of  the  new'st,  and  finest,  finest  wear-a? 

98 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

Come  to  the  pedlar ; 
Money  's  a  medler, 
That  doth  utter  all  men's  ware-a.  [Exit. 

Re-enter  Servant. 

Serv.  Master,  there  is  three  carters,  three  shepherds, 
three  neat-herds,  three  swine-herds,  that  have 
made  themselves  all  men  of  hair,  they  call  them- 
selves Saltiers,  and  they  have  a  dance  which  the 
wenches  say  is  a  gallimaufry  of  gambols,  be-  330 
cause  they  are  not  in  't ;  but  they  themselves  are 
o'  the  mind,  if  it  be  not  too  rough  for  some  that 
know  little  but  bowling,  it  will  please  plentifully. 

Shep.  Away !  we  '11  none  on  't :  here  has  been  too 
much  homely  foolery  already.  I  know,  sir,  we 
weary  you. 

Pol.  You  weary  those  that  refresh  us :  pray,  let 's 
see  these  four  threes  of  herdsmen. 

Serv.  One  three  of  them,  by  their  own  report,  sir,  340 
hath  danced  before  the  king ;   and  not  the  worst 
of  the  three  but  jumps  twelve  foot  and  a  half  by 
the  squier. 

Shep.  Leave  your  prating :  since  these  good  men  are 
pleased,  let  them  come  in;   but  quickly  now. 

Serv.  Why,  they  stay  at  door,  sir.  [Exit. 

Here  a  dance  of  tzvelve  Satyrs. 

Pol.  O,  father,  you  '11  know  more  of  that  hereafter, 

[To  Cam.]   Is  it  not  too  far  gone?     'Tis  time  to  part 
them. 

99 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

He  's  simple  and  tells  much.     How  now,  fair  shep- 
herd! 350 
Your  heart  is  full  of  something  that  does  take 
Your  mind  from  feasting.     Sooth,  when  I  was  young 
And  handed  love  as  you  do,  I  was  wont 
To  load  my  she  with  knacks :    I  would  have  ran- 

sack'd 
The  pedlar's  silken  treasury  and  have  pour'd  it 
To  her  acceptance ;  you  have  let  him  go 
And  nothing  marted  with  him.     If  your  lass 
Interpretation  should  abuse  and  call  this 
Your  lack  of  love  or  bounty,  you  were  straited 
For  a  reply,  at  least  if  you  make  a  care  360 

Of  happy  holding  her. 

Flo.  Old  sir,  I  know 

She  prizes  not  such  trifles  as  these  are : 
The  gifts  she  looks  from  me  are  pack'd  and  lock'd 
Up  in  my  heart ;  which  I  have  given  already, 
But  not  deliver'd.     O,  hear  me  breathe  my  life 
Before  this  ancient  sir,  who,  it  should  seem, 
Hath  sometime  loved !     I  take  thy  hand,  this  hand. 
As  soft  as  dove's  down  and  as  white  as  it, 
Or  Ethiopian's  tooth,  or  the  fann'd  snow  that 's  bolted 
By  the  northern  blasts  twice  o'er. 

Pol.  What  follows  this  ?     370 

How  prettily  the  young  swain  seems  to  wash 
The  hand  was  fair  before !     I  have  put  you  out : 
But  to  your  protestation ;   let  me  hear 
What  you  profess. 

Flo.  Do,  and  be  witness  to  't. 

Pol.  And  this  my  neighbour  too  ? 

Flo.  And  he,  and  more 

100 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

Than  he,  and  men,  the  earth,  the  heavens,  and  all: 
That,  were  I  crown'd  the  most  imperial  monarch, 
Thereof  most  worthy,  were  I  the  fairest  youth 
That  ever  made  eye  swerve,  had  force  and  knowledge 
More  than  was  ever  man's,  I  would  not  prize  them 
Without  her  love;    for  her  employ  them  all;       381 
Commend  them  and  condemn  them  to  her  service 
Or  to  their  own  perdition. 

Pol  Fairly  offer'd. 

Cam.  This  shows  a  sound  afifection. 

^^^^P'  But,  my  daughter, 

Say  you  the  like  to  him? 

-f*^^-  I  cannot  speak 

So  well,  nothing  so  well;  no,  nor  mean  better: 
By  the  pattern  of  mine  own  thoughts  I  cut  out 
The  purity  of  his. 

Shep.  Take  hands,  a  bargain! 

And,  friends  unknown,  you  shall  bear  witness  to  't : 
I  give  my  daughter  to  him,  and  will  make  390 

Her  portion  equal  his. 

P^o.  O,  that  must  be 

r  the  virtue  of  your  daughter:   one  being  dead, 
I  shall  have  more  than  you  can  dream  of  yet ; 
Enough  then  for  your  wonder.     But,  come  on, 
Contract  us  'fore  these  witnesses. 

^^^P'  Come,  your  hand ; 

And,  daughter,  yours. 

Pol  Soft,  swain,  awhile,  beseech  you  ; 

Have  you  a  father? 
P^o.  I  have:  but  what  of  him? 

Pol  Knows  he  of  this? 
P^o,  He  neither  does  nor  shall. 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Pol  Methinks  a  father 

Is  at  the  nuptial  of  his  son  a  guest  400 

That  best  becomes  the  table.    Pray  you  once  more, 

is  not  your  father  grown  incapable 

Of  reasonable  affairs?  is  he  not  stupid 

With    age    and    altering    rheums?     can    he    speak? 

hear? 
Know  man  from  man?   dispute  his  own  estate? 
Lies  he  not  bed-rid?  and  again  does  nothing 
But  what  he  did  being  childish? 

Flo.  No,  good  sir; 

He  has  his  health  and  ampler  strength  indeed 
Than  most  have  of  his  age. 

Pol.  By  my  white  beard. 

You  offer  him,  if  this  be  so,  a  wrong  410 

Something  unfilial:  reason  my  son 

Should  choose  himself  a  wife,  but  as  good  reason 

The  father,  all  whose  joy  is  nothing  else 

But  fair  posterity,  should  hold  some  counsel 

In  such  a  business.  » 

Flo.  I  yield  all  this; 

But  for  some  other  reasons,  my  grave  sir, 
Which  'tis  not  fit  you  know,  I  not  acquaint 
My  father  of  this  business. 

Pol.  Let  him  know  't. 

Flo.  He  shall  not. 

Pol.  Prithee,  let  him. 

Flo.  No,  he  must  not. 

Shep.  Let  him,  my  son:  he  shall  not  need  to  grieve     420 
At  knowing  of  thy  choice. 

Flo.  Come,  come,  he  must  not. 

Mark  our  contract. 

102 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

Pol.  Mark  your  divorce,  young  sir, 

[Discovering  himself. 
Whom  son  I  dare  not  call ;  thou  art  too  base 
To  be  acknowledged:  thou  a  sceptre's  heir, 
That  thus  affects  a  sheep-hook!    Thou  old  traitor, 
I  am  sorry  that  by  hanging  thee  I  can 
But  shorten  thy  life  one  week.     And  thou,  fresh 

piece 
Of  excellent  witchcraft,  who  of  force  must  know 
The  royal  fool  thou  copest  with, — 

Shcp.  O,  my  heart! 

Pol.  I  '11  have  thy  beauty  scratch'd  with  briers,  and  made 
More  homely  than  thy  state.   For  thee,  fond  boy,  431 
If  I  may  ever  know  thou  dost  but  sigh 
That  thou  no  more  shalt  see  this  knack,  as  never 
I  mean  thou  shalt,  we  '11  bar  thee  from  succession ; 
Not  hold  thee  of  our  blood,  no,  not  our  kin, 
Farre  than  Deucalion  off:  mark  thou  my  words: 
Follow  us  to  the  court.    Thou  churl,  for  this  time. 
Though  full  of  our  displeasure,  yet  we  free  thee 
From  the  dead  blow  of  it.    And  you,  enchantment, — 
Worthy  enough  a  herdsman;  yea,  him  too,  440 

That  makes  himself,  but  for  our  honour  therein, 
Unworthy  thee, — if  ever  henceforth  thou 
These  rural  latches  to  his  entrance  open. 
Or  hoop  his  body  more  with  thy  embraces, 
I  will  devise  a  death  as  cruel  for  thee 
As  thou  art  tender  to  't.  [Exit. 

Per.  Even  here  undone ! 

I  was  not  much  afeard ;   for  once  or  twice 
I  was  about  to  speak  and  tell  him  plainly, 
The  selfsame  sun  that  shines  upon  his  court 
Hides  not  his  visage  from  our  cottage,  but  450 

103 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Looks  on  alike.    Will 't  please  you,  sir,  begone? 
I  told  you  what  would  come  of  this  :  beseech  you. 
Of  your  own  state  take  care:   this  dream  of  mine, — 
Being  now  awake,  I  '11  queen  it  no  inch  farther, 
But  milk  my  ewes  and  weep. 

Ca7n.  Why,  how  now,  father ! 

Speak  ere  thou  diest. 

Shep.  I  cannot  speak,  nor  think, 

Nor  dare  to  know  that  which  I  know.     O  sir ! 
You  have  undone  a  man  of  fourscore  three, 
That  thought  to  fill  his  grave  in  quiet;  yea, 
To  die  upon  the  bed  my  father  died,  460 

To  lie  close  by  his  honest  bones :    but  now 
Some  hangman  must  put  on  my  shroud  and  lay  me 
Where  no  priest  shovels  in  dust.    O  cursed  wretch. 
That  knew'st  this  was  the  prince,  and  wouldst  ad- 
venture 
To  mingle  faith  with  him  !     Undone  !   undone ! 
If  I  might  die  within  this  hour,  I  have  lived 
To  die  when  I  desire.  [Exit, 

Flo.  Why  look  you  so  upon  me? 

I  am  but  sorry,  not  afeard;   delay'd, 
But  nothing  alter'd:   what  I  was,  I  am; 
More  straining  on  for  plucking  back,  not  following 
My  leash  unwillingly. 

Cam.  Gracious  my  lord,  471 

You  know  your  father's  temper:   at  this  time 
He  will  allow  no  speech,  which  I  do  guess 
You  do  not  purpose  to  him ;  and  as  hardly 
Will  he  endure  your  sight  as  yet,  I  fear : 
Then,  till  the  fury  of  his  highness  settle, 
Come  not  before  him. 

'  104 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

Flo.  I  not  purpose  it. 

I  think,  Camillo? 

Cam,  Even  he,  my  lord. 

Per.  How  often  have  I  told  you  'twould  be  thus! 

How  often  said,  my  dignity  would  last  480 

But  till  'twere  known! 

Flo.  It  cannot  fail  but  by 

The  violation  of  my  faith;    and  then 
Let  nature  crush  the  sides  o'  the  earth  together 
And  mar  the  seeds  within!     Lift  up  thy  looks: 
From  my  succession  wipe  me,  father,  I 
Am  heir  to  my  affection. 

Cam.  Be  advised. 

Flo.  I  am,  and  by  my  fancy :  if  my  reason 
Will  thereto  be  obedient,  I  have  reason; 
If  not,  my  senses,  better  pleased  with  madness. 
Do  bid  it  welcome. 

Cam.  This  is  desperate,  sir.  490 

Flo.  So  call  it:  but  it  does  fulfil  my  vow; 

I  needs  must  think  it  honesty.     Camillo, 

Not  for  Bohemia,  nor  the  pomp  that  may 

Be  thereat  glean'd;  for  all  the  sun  sees,  or 

The  close  earth  wombs,  or  the  profound  seas  hide 

In  unknown  fathoms,  will  I  break  my  oath 

To  this  my  fair  beloved:   therefore,  I  pray  you, 

As  you  have  ever  been  my  father's  honour'd  friend, 

When  he  shall  miss  me, — as,  in  faith,  I  mean  not 

To  see  him  any  more, — cast  your  good  counsels  500 

Upon  his  passion:    let  myself  and  fortune 

Tug  for  the  time  to  come.     This  you  may  know 

And  so  deliver,  I  am  put  to  sea 

With  her  whom  here  I  cannot  hold  on  shore; 

105 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

And  most  opportune  to  our  need  I  have 
A  vessel  rides  fast  by,  but  not  prepared 
For  this  design.     What  course  I  mean  to  hold 
Shall  nothing  benefit  your  knowledge,  nor 
Concern  me  the  reporting. 

Cam.  O  my  lord! 

I  would  your  spirit  were  easier  for  advice,  510 

Or  stronger  for  your  need. 

Flo.  Hark,  Perdita.      [Drawing  her  aside. 

I  '11  hear  you  by  and  by. 

Cam.  He  's  irremoveable, 

Resolved  for  flight.     Now  were  I  happy,  if 
His  going  I  could  frame  to  serve  my  turn, . 
Save  him  from  danger,  do  him  love  and  honour, 
Purchase  the  sight  again  of  dear  Sicilia 
And  that  unhappy  king,  my  master,  whom 
I  so  much  thirst  to  see. 

Flo.  Now,  good  Camillo; 

I  am  so  fraught  with  curious  business  that 
I  leave  out  ceremony. 

Cam.  Sir,  I  think  520 

You  have  heard  of  my  poor  services,  i'  the  love 
That  I  have  borne  your  father? 

Flo.  Very  nobly 

Have  you  deserved:  it  is  my  father's  music 
To  speak  your  deeds,  not  little  of  his  care 
To  have  them  recompensed  as  thought  on. 

Cam.  Well,  my  lord, 

If  you  may  please  to  think  I  love  the  king. 
And  through  him  what  is  nearest  to  him,  which  is 
Your  gracious  self,  embrace  but  my  direction. 
If  your  more  ponderous  and  settled  project 
106 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

May  suffer  alteration,  on  mine  honour  530 

I  '11  point  you  where  you  shall  have  such  receiving 
As  shall  become  your  highness;    where  you  may 
Enjoy  your  mistress,  from  the  whom,  I  see, 
There  's  no  disjunction  to  be  made,  but  by 
As  heavens  forfend!   your  ruin;   marry  her, 
And,  with  my  best  endeavours  in  your  absence. 
Your  discontenting  father  strive  to  qualify 
And  bring  him  up  to  liking. 

F^o.  How,  Camillo, 

May  this,  almost  a  miracle,  be  done? 
That  I  may  call  thee  something  more  than  man  540 
And  after  that  trust  to  thee. 

Cam.  Have  you  thought  on 

A  place  whereto  you  '11  go? 

Plo.  Not  any  yet : 

But  as  the  unthought-on  accident  is  guilty 
To  what  we  wildly  do,  so  we  profess 
Ourselves  to  be  the  slaves  of  chance,  and  flies 
Of  every  wind  that  blows. 

'Cam.  Then  list  to  me: 

This  follows,  if  you  will  not  change  your  purpose 
But  undergo  this  flight,  make  for  Sicilia, 
And  there  present  yourself  and  your  fair  princess. 
For  so  I  see  she  must  be,  'fore  Leontes :  550 

She  shall  be  habited  as  it  becomes 
The  partner  of  your  bed.     Methinks  I  see 
Leontes  opening  his  free  arms  and  weeping 
His  welcomes  forth;   asks  thee  the  son  forgiveness, 
As  'twere  i'  the  father's  person;   kisses  the  hands 
Of  your  fresh  princess  ;  o'er  and  o'er  divides  him 
Twixt  his  unkindness  and  his  kindness;  the  one 
107 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

He  chides  to  hell  and  bids  the  other  grow 
Faster  than  thought  or  time. 

Flo.  Worthy  Camillo, 

What  colour  for  my  visitation  shall  I  560 

Hold  up  before  him? 

Cam.  Sent  by  the  king  your  father 

To  greet  him  and  to  give  him  comforts.     Sir, 
The  manner  of  your  bearing  towards  him,  with 
What  you  as  from  your  father  shall  deliver, 
Things  known  betwixt  us  three,  I  '11  write  you  down: 
The  which  shall  point  you  forth  at  every  sitting 
What  you  must  say;   that  he  shall  not  perceive 
Bur  that  you  have  your  father's  bosom  there 
And  speak  his  very  heart. 

Flo.  I  am  bound  to  you: 

There  is  some  sap  in  this. 

Cam.  A  course  more  promising  570 

Than  a  wild  dedication  of  yourselves 
To  unpath'd  waters,  undream'd  shores,  most  certain 
To  miseries  enough:  no  hope  to  help  you, 
But  as  you  shake  of¥  one  to  take  another: 
Nothing  so  certain  as  your  anchors,  who 
Do  their  best  office,  if  they  can  but  stay  you 
Where  you  '11  be  loath  to  be:  besides  you  know 
Prosperity  's  the  very  bond  of  love. 
Whose  fresh  complexion  and  whose  heart  together 
Affliction  alters. 

Per,  One  of  these  is  true:  580 

I  think  affliction  may  subdue  the  cheek, 
But  not  take  in  the  mind. 

Cam.  Yea,  say  you  so? 

There  shall  not  at  your  father's  house  these  seven 
years 

108 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

Be  born  another  such. 

Flo,  My  good  Camillo, 

She  is  as  forward  of  her  breeding  as 

She  is  i'  the  rear  o'  her  birth. 
Cam.  I  cannot  say  'tis  pity 

She  lacks  instructions,  for  she  seems  a  mistress 

To  most  that  teach. 
Per.  Your  pardon,  sir ;   for  this 

I  '11  blush  you  thanks. 
Flo.  My  prettiest  Perdita ! 

But  O,  the  thorns  we  stand  upon !     Camillo,  590 

Preserver  of  my  father,  now  of  me, 

The  medicine  of  our  house,  how  shall  we  do  ? 

We  are  not  furnish'd  like  Bohemia's  son, 

Nor  shall  appear  in  Sicilia. 
Cam.  My  lord. 

Fear  none  of  this :   I  think  you  know  my  fortunes 

Do  all  lie  there :   it  shall  be  so  my  care 

To  have  you  royally  appointed  as  if 

The  scene  you  play  were  mine.     For  instance,  sir, 

That  you  may  know  you  shall  not  want,  one  word. 

[They  talk  aside. 

Re-enter  Autolyciis. 

Ant.  Ha,  ha !  what  a  fool  Honesty  is !  and  Trust,  600 
his  sworn  brother,  a  very  simple  gentleman !  I 
have  sold  all  my  trumpery;  not  a  counterfeit 
stone,  not  a  ribbon,  glass,  pomander,  brooch, 
table-book,  ballad,  knife,  tape,  glove,  shoe-tie, 
bracelet,  horn-ring,  to  keep  my  pack  from  fast- 
ing :  they  throng  who  should  buy  first,  as  if  my 
trinkets  had  been  hallowed  and  brought  a  bene- 
diction to  the  buyer:    by  which  means  I  saw 

109 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

whose  purse  was  best  in  picture ;  and  what  I 
saw,  to  my  good  use  I  remembered.  My  clown,  6io 
who  wants  but  something  to  be  a  reasonable  man, 
grew  so  in  love  with  the  wenches'  song,  that  he 
would  not  stir  his  pettitoes  till  he  had  both  tune 
and  words ;  which  so  drew  the  rest  of  the  herd 
to  me,  that  all  their  other  senses  stuck  in  ears: 
you  might  have  pinched  a  placket,  it  was  sense- 
less ;  'twas  nothing  to  geld  a  codpiece  of  a  purse ; 
I  would  have  filed  keys  off  that  hung  in  chains : 
no  hearing,  no  feeling,  but  my  sir's  song,  and 
admiring  the  nothing  of  it.  So  that  in  this  620 
time  of  lethargy  I  picked  and  cut  most  of  their 
festival  purses  ;  and  had  not  the  old  man  come  in 
with  a  whoo-bub  against  his  daughter  and  the 
king's  son  and  scared  my  choughs  from  the 
chaff,  I  had  not  left  a  purse  alive  in  the  whole 
army. 

{Camillo,  Florizel,  and  Perdita  come  forzvard. 

Cam.  Nay,  but  my  letters,  by  this  means  being  there 
So  soon  as  you  arrive,  shall  clear  that  doubt. 

Flo.  And  those  that  you  '11  procure  from  King  Leontes — 

Cam.  Shall  satisfy  your  father. 

Per.  Happy  be  you  ! 

All  that  you  speak  shows  fair. 

Cam.  Who  have  we  here  ?  630 

[Seeing  Autolycus. 
We  '11  make  an  instrument  of  this ;   omit 
Nothing  may  give  us  aid. 

Ant.  If  they  have  overheard  me  now,  why,  hanging. 

Cam.  How  now,  good  fellow !   why  shakest  thou  so  ? 
Fear  not,  man  :  here  's  no  harm  intended  to  thee. 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

Auf,  I  am  a  poor  fellow,  sir. 

Cam.  Why,  be  so  still ;  here  's  nobody  will  steal  that 
from  thee:  yet  for  the  outside  of  thy  poverty 
we  must  make  an  exchange;  therefore  disease  640 
thee  instantly, — thou  must  think  there  's  a  ne- 
cessity in  't, — and  change  garments  with  this 
gentleman :  though  the  pennyworth  on  his  side 
be  the  worst,  yet  hold  thee,  there  's  some  boot. 

Ant.  I  am  a  poor  fellow,  sir.     [Aside]     I  know  ye 
well  enough. 

Cam.  Nay,  prithee,  dispatch :   the  gentleman  is  half 
flayed  already. 

Aut.  Are  you  in  earnest,  sir?     [Aside]     I  smell  the 

trick  on  't.  650 

Flo.  Dispatch,  I  prithee. 

Aut.  Indeed,  I  have  had  earnest;   but  I  cannot  with 
conscience  take  it. 

Cam.  Unbuckle,  unbuckle. 

[Florizel  and  Autolycus  exchange  garments. 
Fortunate  mistress, — let  my  prophecy 
Come  home  to  ye  !  you  must  retire  yourself 
Into  some  covert :  take  your  sweetheart's  hat 
And  pluck  it  o'er  your  brows,  muffle  your  face. 
Dismantle  you,  and,  as  you  can,  disliken 
The  truth  of  your  own  seeming ;   that  you  may — 
For  I  do  fear  eyes  over — to  shipboard  661 

Get  undescried. 

Per,  I  see  the  play  so  lies 

That  I  must  bear  a  part. 

Cam.  No  remedy. 

Have  you  done  there  ? 

Flo.  Should  I  now  meet  my  father, 

m 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

He  would  not  call  me  son. 

Cam.  Nay,  you  shall  have  no  hat. 

[Giz'ing  it  to  Perdita. 
Come,  lady,  come.     Farewell,  my  friend. 

Ant.-  Adieu,  sir. 

Flo.  O  Perdita,  what  have  we  twain  forgot ! 
Pray  you,  a  word. 

Cam.    [Aside]   What  I  do  next,  shall  be  to  tell  the  king 
Of  this  escape  and  whither  they  are  bound ;  670 

Wherein  my  hope  is  I  shall  so  prevail 
To  force  him  after :  in  whose  company 
I  shall  review  Sicilia,  for  whose  sight 
I  have  a  woman's  longing. 

Flo.  Fortune  speed  us! 

Thus  we  set  on,  Camillo,  to  the  sea-side. 

Cam.  The  swifter  speed  the  better. 

[Exeunt  Florizel,  Perdita,  and  Camillo, 

Ant.  I  understand  the  business,  I  hear  it :  to  have 
an  open  ear,  a  quick  eye,  and  a  nimble  hand,  is 
necessary  for  a  cut-purse ;  a  good  nose  is  re- 
quisite also,  to  smell  out  work  for  the  other  680 
senses.  I  see  this  is  the  time  that  the  unjust 
man  doth  thrive.  What  an  exchange  had  this 
been  without  boot!  What  a  boot  is  here  with 
this  exchange !  Sure  the  gods  do  this  year  con- 
nive at  us,  and  we  may  do  any  thing  extempore. 
The  prince  himself  is  about  a  piece  of  iniquity, 
stealing  away  from  his  father  with  his  clog  at 
his  heels :  if  I  thought  it  were  a  piece  of  honesty 
to  acquaint  the  king  withal,  I  would  not  do  't :  I 
hold  it  the  more  knavery  to  conceal  it;  and  690 
therein  am  I  constant  to  my  profession. 
112 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

Re-enter  Clozvn  and  Shepherd. 

Aside,  aside;  here  is  more  matter  for  a  hot 
brain :  every  lane's  end,  every  shop,  church, 
session,  hanging,  yields  a  careful  man  work. 

Clo.  See,  see ;  what  a  man  you  are  now !  There  is 
no  other  way  but  to  tell  the  king  she  's  a  change- 
ling and  none  of  your  flesh  and  blood. 

Shep.  Nay,  but  hear  me. 

Clo.  Nay,  but  hear  me. 

Shep.  Go  to,  then.  700 

Clo.  She  being  none  of  your  flesh  and  blood,  your 
flesh  and  blood  has  not  offended  the  king;  and 
so  your  flesh  and  blood  is  not  to  be  punished  by 
him.  Show  those  things  you  found  about  her, 
those  secret  things,  all  but  what  she  has  with 
her :  this  being  done,  let  the  law  go  whistle :  I 
warrant  you. 

Shep.  I  will  tell  the  king  all,  every  word,  yea,  and 
his  son's  pranks  too ;  who,  I  may  say,  is  no  hon- 
est man,  neither  to  his  father  nor  to  me,  to  go  710 
about  to  make  me  the  king's  brother-in-law. 

Clo.  Indeed,  brother-in-law  was  the  farthest  off  you 
could  have  been  to  him  and  then  your  blood 
had  been  the  dearer  by  I  know  how  much  an 
ounce. 

Aut.   [Aside]   Very  wisely,  puppies  ! 

Shep.  Well,  let  us  to  the  king:  there  is  that  in  this 
fardel  will  make  him  scratch  his  beard. 

Aut.  [Aside]  I  know  not  what  impediment  this  com- 
plaint may  be  to  the  flight  of  my  master.  720 

Clo.  Pray  heartily  he  be  at  the  palace. 

113 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Ant.  [Aside]  Though  I  am  not  naturally  honest,  I  am 
so  sometimes  by  chance :  let  me  pocket  up  my 
pedlar's  excrement.  [Takes  off  his  false  beard.] 
How  now,  rustics !   whither  are  you  bound  ? 

Shep.  To  the  palace,  an  it  like  your  worship. 

Aiit.  Your  affairs  there,  what,  with  whom,  the  con- 
dition of  that  fardel,  the  place  of  your  dwelling, 
your  names,  your  ages,  of  what  having,  breed- 
ing, and  any  thing  that  is  fitting  to  be  known,  730 
discover. 

Clo.  We  are  but  plain  fellows,  sir. 

Aut.  A  lie  ;  you  are  rough  and  hairy.  Let  me  have 
no  lying:  it  becomes  none  but  tradesmen,  and 
they  often  give  us  soldiers  the  lie:  but  we  pay 
them  for  it  with  stamped  coin,  not  stabbing  steel ; 
therefore  they  do  not  give  us  the  lie. 

Cip.  Your  worship  had  like  to  have  given  us  one,  if 
you  had  not  taken  yourself  with  the  manner. 

Shep.  Are  you  a  courtier,  an  't  like  you,  sir  ?  740 

Aut.  Whether  it  like  me  or  not,  I  am  a  courtier. 
Seest  thou  not  the  air  of  the  court  in  these  en- 
foldings  ?  hath  not  my  gait  in  it  the  measure  of 
the  court?  receives  not  thy  nose  court-odour 
from  me?  reflect  I  not  on  thy  baseness  court- 
contempt?  Thinkest  thou,  for  that  I  insinuate, 
or  toaze  from  thee  thy  business,  I  am  therefore 
no  courtier  ?  I  am  courtier  cap-a-pe ;  and  one 
that  will  either  push  on  or  pluck  back  thy  busi- 
ness there :  whereupon  I  command  thee  to  open  750 
thy  affair. 

Shep.  My  business,  sir,  is  to  the  king. 

Aut.  What  advocate  hast  thou  to  him? 

114 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

She  p.  I  know  not,  an  't  like  you. 
Clo.  Advocate  's  the  court-word  for  a  pheasant :   say 
you  have  none. 

Shep.  None,  sir ;     I  have  no  pheasant,  cock  nor  hen. 

Aut.  How  blessed  are  we  that  are  not  simple  men! 
Yet  nature  might  have  made  me  as  these  are, 
Therefore  I  will  not  disdain.  760 

Clo.  This  cannot  be  but  a  great  courtier. 

Shep.  His  garments  are  rich,  but  he  wears  them  not 
handsomely. 

Clo.  He  seems  to  be  the  more  noble  in  being  fantas- 
tical :  a  great  man,  I  '11  warrant ;  I  know  by  the 
picking  on  's  teeth. 

Aiit.  The  fardel  there?  what 's  i'  the  fardel?  Where- 
fore that  box  ? 

Shep.  Sir,  there  lies  such  secrets  in  this  fardel  and 

box,  which  none  must  know  but  the  king;   and  770 
which  he  shall  know  within  this  hour,  if  I  may 
come  to  the  speech  of  him. 

Aut.  Age,  thou  hast  lost  thy  labour. 

Shep.  Why,  sir? 

Ant.  The  king  is  not  at  the  palace;  he  is  gone 
aboard  a  new  ship  to  purge  melancholy  and  air 
himself :  for,  if  thou  beest  capable  of  things 
serious,  thou  must  know  the  king  is  full  of  grief. 

Shep.  So  'tis  said,  sir;    about  his  son,  that  should 

have  married  a  shepherd's  daughter.  780 

Ant.  If  that  shepherd  be  not  in  hand-fast,  let  him 
fly :  the  curses  he  shall  have,  the  tortures  he 
shall  feel,  will  break  the  back  of  man,  the  heart 
of  monster. 

Clo.  Think  you  so,  sir? 

115 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Aut.  Not  he  alone  shall  suffer  what  wit  can  make 
heavy  and  vengeance  bitter;  but  those  that  are 
germane  to  him,  though  removed  fifty  times, 
shall  all  come  under  the  hangman  :  which  though 
it  be  a  great  pity,  yet  it  is  necessary.  An  old  790 
sheep-whistling  rogue,  a  ram-tender,  to  offer  to 
have  his  daughter  come  into  grace !  Some  say  he 
shall  be  stoned ;  but  that  death  is  too  soft  for 
him  say  I :  draw  our  throne  into  a  sheep-cote ! 
all  deaths  are  too  few,  the  sharpest  too  easy. 

Clo.  Has  the  old  man  e'er  a  son,  sir,  do  you  hear, 
an  't  Hke  you,  sir? 

Aut.  He  has  a  son  who  shall  be  flayed  alive;  then, 
'nointed  over  with  honey,  set  on  the  head  of  a 
wasp's  nest ;  then  stand  till  he  be  three  quarters  800 
and  a  dram  dead;  then  recovered  again  with 
aqua-vitae  or  some  other  hot  infusion;  then,  raw 
as  he  is,  and  in  the  hottest  day  prognostication 
proclaims,  shall  he  be  set  against  a  brick-wall, 
the  sun  looking  with  a  southward  eye  upon  him, 
where  he  is  to  behold  him  with  flies  blown  to 
death.  But  what  talk  we  of  these  traitorly 
rascals,  whose  miseries  are  to  be  smiled  at,  their 
offences  being  so  capital?  Tell  me  for  you  seem 
to  be  honest  plain  men,  what  you  have  to  the  810 
king:  being  something  gently  considered,  I  '11 
bring  you  where  he  is  aboard,  tender  your 
persons  to  his  presence,  whisper  him  in  your 
behalfs ;  and  if  it  be  in  man  besides  the  king  to 
effect  your  suits,  here  is  man  shall  do  it. 

Clo.  He  seems  to  be  of  great  authority:    close  with 
him,  give  him  gold;   and  though  authority  be  a 
116 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

stubborn  bear,  yet  he  is  oft  led  by  the  nose  with 
gold :   show  the  inside  of  your  purse  to  the  out- 
side of  his  hand,  and  no  more  ado.     Remember  820 
'  stoned,'  and  '  flayed  alive.' 

Shep.  An  't  please  you,  sir,  to  undertake  the  business 
for  us,  here  is  that  gold  I  have :  I  '11  make  it  as 
much  more  and  leave  this  young  man  in  pawn  till 
I  bring  it  you. 

Aut.  After  I  have  done  what  I  promised? 

Shep.  Ay,  sir. 

Aiit.  Well,  give  me  the  moiety.  Are  you  a  party 
in  this  business? 

Clo.  In   some  sort,   sir:    but  though  my  case  be  a  830 
pitiful  one,  I  hope  I  shall  not  be  flayed  out  of  it. 

Ant.  O,  that  's  the  case  of  the  shepherd's  son :  hang 
him,  he  '11  be  made  an  example. 

Clo.  Comfort,  good  comfort !  We  must  to  the  king 
and  show  our  strange  sights :  he  must  know  'tis 
none  of  your  daughter  nor  my  sister;  we  are 
gone  else.  Sir,  I  will  give  you  as  much  as  this 
old  man  does  when  the  business  is  performed, 
and  remain,  as  he  says,  your  pawn  till  it  be 
brought  you.  840 

Aut.  I  will  trust  you.  Walk  before  toward  the  sea- 
side ;  go  on  the  right  hand  :  I  will  but  look  upon 
the  hedge  and  follow  you. 

Clo.  We  are  blest  in  this  man,  as  I  may  say,  even  blest. 

Shep.  Let 's  before  as  he  bids  us :   he  was  provided 

to  do  us  good.  [Exeunt  Shepherd  and  Clown, 

Aut.  If  I  had  a  mind  to  be  honest,  I  see  Fortune 
would  not  suffer  me:  she  drops  booties  in  my 
mouth.     I  am  courted  now  with  a  double  oc- 

117 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

casion,  gold  and  a  means  to  do  the  prince  my  850 
master  good;  which  who  knows  how  that  may 
turn  back  to*  my  advancement?  I  will  bring 
these  two  moles,  these  blind  ones,  aboard  him: 
if  he  think  it  fit  to  shore  them  again  and  that 
the  complaint  they  have  to  the  king  concerns 
him  nothing,  let  him  call  me  rogue  for  being  so 
far  officious ;  for  I  am  proof  against  that  title 
and  what  shame  else  belongs  to  't.  To  him  will 
I  present  them :   there  may  be  matter  in  it.       [Exit. 


ACT   FIFTH. 
Scene  I. 

A  room  in  Leontes'  palace. 
Enter  Leontes,  Cleomenes,  Dion,  Paulina,  and  Servants. 

Cleo.  Sir,  you  have  done  enough,  and  have  perform'd 
A  saint-like  sorrow :  no  fault  could  you  make, 
Which  you  have  not  redeem'd ;   indeed,  paid  down 
More  penitence  than  done  trespass :   at  the  last, 
Do  as  the  heavens  have  done,  forget  your  evil ; 
With  them  forgive  yourself. 

Leon.  Whilst  I  remember 

Her  and  her  virtues,  I  cannot  forget 
My  blemishes  in  them,  and  so  still  think  of 
The  wrong  I  did  myself :   which  was  so  much, 
That  heirless  it  hath  made  my  kingdom ;   and         10 
Destroy'd  the  sweet'st  companion  that  e'er  man 
Bred  his  hopes  out  of. 

Paul.  True,  too  true,  my  lord : 

If,  one  by  one,  you  wedded  all  the  world, 

118 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  V.  Sc.  i. 

Or  from  the  all  that  are  took  something  good, 
To  make  a  perfect  woman,  she  you  kill'd 
Would  be  unparallel'd. 

Leon.  I  think  so.     Kill'd! 

She  I  kill'd!  I  did  so:  but  thou  strikest  me 
Sorely,  to  say  I  did;  it  is  as  bitter 
Upon  thy  tongue  as  in  my  thought:  now,  good  now. 
Say  so  but  seldom. 

Cleo.  Not  at  all,  good  lady:  20 

You  might   have   spoken   a  thousand  things   that 

would 
Have  done  the  time  more  benefit  and  graced 
Your  kindness  better. 

Paul.  You  are  one  of  those 

Would  have  him  wed  again. 

Dion.  If  you  would  not  so. 

You  pity  not  the  state,  nor  the  remembrance 
Of  his  most  sovereign  name;  consider  Httle 
What  dangers,  by  his  highness'  fail  of  issue. 
May  drop  upon  his  kingdom  and  devour 
Incertain  lookers  on.    What  were  more  holy 
Than  to  rejoice  the  former  queen  is  well?  30 

What  holier  than,  for  royalty's  repair, 
For  present  comfort  and  for  future  good, 
To  bless  the  bed  of  majesty  again 
With  a  sweet  fellow  to  't? 

raid.  There  is  none  worthy, 

Respecting  her  that 's  gone.     Besides,  the  gods 
Will  have  fulfill'd  their  secret  purposes; 
For  has  not  the  divine  Apollo  said, 
Is  't  not  the  tenor  of  his  oracle, 
That  King  Leontes  shall  not  have  an  heir 
Till  his  lost  child  be  found?  which  that  it  shall,     40 
119 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Is  all  as  monstrous  to  our  human  reason 

As  my  Antigonus  to  break  his  grave 

And  come  again  to  me;   who,  on  my  life, 

Did  perish  with  the  infant.     'Tis  your  counsel 

My  lord  should  to  the  heavens  be  contrary, 

Oppose  against  their  wills.      [To  Leontes]     Care  not 

for  issue; 
The  crown  will  find  an  heir:   great  Alexander 
Left  his  to  the  worthiest;    so  his  successor 
Was  like  to  be  the  best. 

Leon.  Good  Paulina, 

Who  has  the  memory  of  Hermione,  50 

I  know,  in  honour,  O,  that  ever  I 
Had  squared  me  to  thy  counsel! — then,  even  now, 
I  might  have  look'd  upon  my  queen's  full  eyes; 
Have  taken  treasure  from  her  lips, — 

Paul.  And  left  them 

More  rich  for  what  they  yielded. 

Leon.  Thou  speak'st  truth. 

No  more  such  wives ;  therefore,  no  wife :   one  worse, 
And  better  used,  would  make  her  sainted  spirit 
Again  possess  her  corpse,  and  on  this  stage, 
Where  we  offenders  now,  appear  soul-vex'd, 
And  begin,  '  Why  to  me? ' 

Paul.  Had  she  such  power,     60 

She  had  just  cause. 

Leon.  She  had;   and  would  incense  me 

To  murder  her  I  married. 

Paul.  I  should  so. 

Were  I  the  ghost  that  walk'd,  I  'Id  bid  you  mark 

Her  eye,  and  tell  me  for  what  dull  part  in  't 

You  chose  her ;  then  I  'Id  shriek,  that  even  your  ears 

120 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  V.  Sc.  i. 

Should  rift  to  hear  me;   and  the  words  that  followed 

Should  be  *  Remember  mine.' 
Leon.  Stars,  stars, 

And  all  eyes  else  dead  coals!     Fear  thou  no  wife: 

I  '11  have  no  wife,  Paulina. 
Paul.  Will  you  swear 

Never  to  marry  but  by  my  free  leave?  70 

Leon.  Never,  Paulina ;   so  be  blest  my  spirit ! 
Paul.  Then,  good  my  lords,   bear  witness  to  his  oath. 
Cleo.  You  tempt  him  over-much. 
Paul.  Unless  another, 

As  like  Hermione  as  is  her  picture, 

Affront  his  eye. 

Clco.  Good  madam, — 

Paul.  I  have  done. 

Yet,  if  my  lord  will  marry, — if  you  will,  sir, 
No  remedy,  but  you  will, — give  me  the  office 
To  choose  you  a  queen :   she  shall  not  be  so  young 
As  was  your  former:  but  she  shall  be  such 
As,  walk'd  your  first  queen's  ghost,  it  should  take  joy 
To  see  her  in  your  arms. 

Leon.  My  true  Paulina,  81 

We  shall  not  marry  till  thou  bid'st  tis. 

Paul  That 

Shall  be  when  your  first  queen's  again  in  breath ; 
Never  till  then. 

Enter  a  Gentleman. 

Gent.  One  that  gives  out  himself  Prince  Florizel, 
Son  of  Polixenes,  with  his  princess,  she 
The  fairest  I  have  yet  beheld,  desires  access 
To  your  high  presence. 

121 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Leon.  What  with  him?  he  comes  not 

Like  to  his  father's  greatness :   his  approach, 
So  out  of  circumstance  and  sudden,  tells  us  90 

'Tis  not  a  visitation  framed,  but  forced 
By  need  and  accident.    What  train  ? 

Gent.  But  few, 

And  those  but  mean. 

Leon.  His  princess,  say  you,  with  him? 

Gent.  Ay,  the  most  peerless  piece  of  earth,  I  think, 
That  e'er  the  sun  shone  bright  on. 

Paul.  O  Hermione, 

As  every  present  time  doth  boast  itself 
Above  a  better  gone,  so  must  thy  grave 
Give  way  to  what 's  seen  now!     Sir,  you  yourself 
Have  said  and  writ  so,  but  your  writing  now 
Is,  colder  than  that  theme,  '  She  had  not  been,         100 
Nor  was  not  to  be  equall'd  ' ; — thus  your  verse 
Flow'd  with  her  beauty  once:   'tis  shrewdly  ebb'd, 
To  say  you  have  seen  a  better. 

Cent,  Pardon,  madam: 

The  one  I  had  almost  forgot, — your  pardon, — 
The  other,  when  she  has  obtain'd  your  eye. 
Will  have  your  tongue  too.     This  is  a  creature, 
Would  she  begin  a  sect,  might  quench  the  zeal 
Of  all  professors  else ;   make  proselytes 
Of  who  she  but  bid  follow. 

Paul.  How!  not  women? 

Qent.  Women  will  love  her,  that  she  is  a  woman         no 
More  worth  than  any  man;   men,  that  she  is 
The  rarest  of  all  women. 

Leon.  Go,  Cleomenes; 

Yourself,  assisted  with  your  honour'd  friends, 
122 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  V.  Sc.  i. 

Bring  them  to  our  embracement. 

[Exeunt  Cleomenes  and  others. 
Still,  'tis  strange 
He  thus  should  steal  upon  us. 

Paul.  Had  our  prince. 

Jewel  of  children,  seen  this  hour,  he  had  pair'd 
Well  with  this  lord :  there  was  not  full  a  month 
Between  their  births. 

Leon.  Prithee,  no  more ;   cease ;  thou  know'st 

He  dies  to  me  again  when  talk'd  of :   sure,  120 

When  I  shall  see  this  gentleman,  thy  speeches 
Will  bring  me  to  consider  that  which  may 
Unfurnish  me  of  reason.     They  are  come. 

Re-enter  Cleomenes  and  others,  zvith  Florizel  and  Perdita, 

Your  mother  was  most  true  to  wedlock,  prince ; 
For  she  did  print  your  royal  father  off, 
Conceiving  you  :  were  I  but  twenty-one, 
Your  father's  image  is  so  hit  in  you. 
His  very  air,  that  I  should  call  you  brother. 
As  I  did  him,  and  speak  of  something  wildly 
By  us  perform'd  before.     Most  dearly  welcome!  130 
And  your  fair  princess, — goddess  ! — O,  alas  ! 
I  lost  a  couple,  that  'twixt  heaven  and  earth 
Might  thus  have  stood  begetting  wonder,  as 
You,  gracious  couple,  do:   and  then  I  lost, 
All  mine  own  folly,  the  society. 
Amity  too,  of  your  brave  father,  whom, 
Though  bearing  misery,  I  desire  my  life 
Once  more  to  look  on  him. 
Flo,  By  his  command 

Have  I  here  touch'd  Sicilia,  and  from  him 

123 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Give  you  all  greetings,  that  a  king,  at  friend,  140 

Can  send  his  brother :   and,  but  infirmity. 

Which  waits  upon  worn  times,  hath  something  seized 

His  wish'd  ability,  he  had  himself 

The  lands  and  waters  'twixt  your  throne  and  his 

Measured  to  look  upon  you ;   whom  he  loves, 

He  bade  me  say  so,  more  than  all  the  sceptres 

And  those  that  bear  them  living. 

Leon.  O  my  brother, 

Good  gentleman !  the  wrongs  I  have  done  thee  stir 
Afresh  within  me ;   and  these  thy  offices. 
So  rarely  kind,  are  as  interpreters  150 

Of  my  behind-hand  slackness !     Welcome  hither, 
As  is  the  spring  to  the  earth.     And  hath  he  too 
Exposed  this  paragon  to  the  fearful  usage. 
At  least  ungentle,  of  the  dreadful  Neptune, 
To  greet  a  man  not  worth  her  pains,  much  less 
The  adventure  of  her  person? 

Flo.  Good  my  lord. 

She  came  from  Libya. 

Leon.  Where  the  warlike  Smalus, 

That  noble  honour'd  lord,  is  fear'd  and  loved? 

Flo.  Most    royal    sir,    from    thence;     from    him,    whose 
daughter  159 

His  tears  proclaim'd  his,  parting  with  her :   thence, 
A  prosperous  south-wind  friendly,  we  have  cross'd, 
To  execute  the  charge  my  father  gave  me, 
For  visiting  your  highness :    my  best  train 
I  have  from  your  Sicilian  shores  dismiss'd ; 
Who  for  Bohemia  bend,  to  signify 
Not  only  my  success  in  Libya,  sir, 
But  my  arrival,  and  my  wife's  in  safety 

124       . 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  V.  Sc.  i. 

Here  where  we  are. 
Leon.  The  blessed  gods 

Purge  all  infection  from  our  air  whilst  you 

Do  climate  here!     You  have  a  holy  father,  170 

A  graceful  gentleman ;    against  whose  person, 

So  sacred  as  it  is,  I  have  done  sin: 

For  which  the  heavens,  taking  angry  note, 

Have  left  me  issueless;  and  your  father  's  blest. 

As  he  from  heaven  merits  it,  with  you 

Worthy  his  goodness.    What  might  I  have  been. 

Might  I  a  son  and  daughter  now  have  look'd  on, 

Such  goodly  things  as  you! 

Enter  a  Lord. 

Lord.  Most  noble  sir, 

That  which  I  shall  report  will  bear  no  credit, 
Were  not  the  proof  so  nigh.     Please  you,  great  sir, 
Bohemia  greets  you  from  himself  by  me;  181 

Desires  you  to  attach  his  son,  who  has — 
His  dignity  and  duty  both  cast  of¥ — 
Fled  from  his  father,  from  his  hopes,  and  with 
A  shepherd's  daughter. 

Leon.  Where  's  Bohemia  ?    speak. 

Lord.  Here  in  your  city ;   I  now  came  from  him : 
I  speak  amazedly ;   and  it  becomes 
My  marvel  and  my  message.     To  your  court 
Whiles  he  was  hastening,  in  the  chase,  it  seems, 
Of  this  fair  couple,  meets  he  on  the  way  190 

The  father  of  this  seeming  lady  and 
Her  brother,  having  both  their  country  quitted 
With  this  young  prince. 

Flo,  Camillo  has  betray'd  me; 

125 


Act  V.  Sc.  i.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Whose  honour  and  whose  honesty  till  now 

Endured  all  weathers. 
Lord.  Lay  't  so  to  his  charge: 

He  's  with  the  king  your  father. 
Leon.  Who?   Camillo? 

Lord.  Camillo,  sir ;   I  spake  with  him ;   who  now 

Has  these  poor  men  in  question.    Never  saw  I 

Wretches  so  quake:  they  kneel,  they  kiss  the  earth; 

Forswear  themselves  as  often  as  they  speak:        200 

Bohemia  stops  his  ears,  and  threatens  them 

With  divers  deaths  in  death. 
Per.  O  my  poor  father! 

The  heaven  sets  spies  upon  us,  will  not  have 

Our  contract  celebrated. 
Leon.  You  are  married? 

Flo.  We  are  not,  sir,  nor  are  we  like  to  be ; 

The  stars,  I  see,  will  kiss  the  valleys  first : 

The  odds  for  high  and  low  's  alike. 
Leon.  My  lord, 

Is  this  the  daughter  of  a  king? 
Flo.  She  is, 

When  once  she  is  my  wife. 
Leon.  That '  once,'  I  see  by  your  good  father's  speed,  210 

Will  come  on  very  slowly.    I  am  sorry, 

Most  sorry,  you  have  broken  from  his  liking 

Where  you  were  tied  in  duty,  and  as  sorry 

Your  choice  is  not  so  rich  in  worth  as  beauty. 

That  you  might  well  enjoy  her. 
Flo.  Dear,  look  up : 

Though  Fortune,  visible  an  enemy, 

Should  chase  us  with  my  father,  power  no  jot 

Hath  she  to  change  our  loves.     Beseech  you,  sir, 
126 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  V.  Sc.  ii. 

Remember  since  you  owed  no  more  to  time 

Than  I  do  now :  with  thought  of  such  affections,  220 

Step  forth  mine  advocate ;  at  your  request 

My  father  will  grant  precious  things  as  trifles. 

Leon.  Would  he  do  so,  I  'Id  beg  your  precious  mistress. 
Which  he  counts  but  a  trifle. 

Paul.  Sir,  my  liege. 

Your  eye  hath  too  much  youth  in  't :  not  a  month 
'Fore  your  queen  died,  she  was  more  worth  such  gazes 
Than  what  you  look  on  now. 

Leon.  I  thought  of  her. 

Even  in  these  looks   I  made.      [To  Florizel]     But 

your  petition 
Is  yet  unanswer'd.     I  will  to  your  father : 
Your  honour  not  o'erthrown  by  your  desires,         230 
I  am  friend  to  them  and  you :  upon  which  errand 
I  now  go  toward  him ;   therefore  follow  me 
And  mark  what  way  I  make :  come,  good  my  lord. 

[Exeunt, 

Scene  II. 

Before  Leontes'  palace. 
Enter  Autolycus  and  a  Gentleman. 

Aut.  Beseech  you,  sir,  were  you  present  at  this  re- 
lation ? 

First  Gent.  I  was  by  at  the  opening  of  the  fardel, 
heard  the  old  shepherd  deliver  the  manner  how 
he  found  it:  whereupon,  after  a  little  amazed- 
ness,  we  were  all  commanded  out  of  the  chamber ; 
only  this  methought  I  heard  the  shepherd  say, 
he  found  the  child. 

127 


Act  V.  Sc.  ii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Aut.  I  would  most  gladly  know  the  issue  of  it. 

First  Gent.  I  make  a  broken  delivery  of  the  business ;  lo 
but  the  changes  I  perceived  in  the  king  and 
Camillo  were  very  notes  of  admiration :  they 
seemed  almost,  with  staring  on  one  another,  to 
tear  the  cases  of  their  eyes ;  there  was  speech  in 
their  dumbness,  language  in  their  very  gesture; 
they  looked  as  they  had  heard  of  a  world  ran- 
somed, or  one  destroyed :  a  notable  passion  of 
wonder  appeared  in  them ;  but  the  wisest  be- 
holder, that  knew  no  more  but  seeing,  could  not 
say  if  the  importance  were  joy  or  sorrow ;  but  20 
in  the  extremity  of  the  one,  it  must  needs  be. 

Enter  another  Gentleman. 

Here  comes  a  gentleman  that  haply  knows  more. 
The  news,  Rogero? 
See.  Gent.  Nothing  but  bonfires :  the  oracle  is  ful- 
filled ;  the  king's  daughter  is  found :  such  a  deal 
of  wonder  is  broken  out  within  this  hour,  that 
ballad-makers  cannot  be  able  to  express  it. 

Enter  a  third  Gentleman. 

Here  comes  the  Lady  Paulina's  steward :  he  can 
deliver  you  more.  How  goes  it  now,  sir?  this 
news  which  is  called  true  is  so  like  an  old  tale,  30 
that  the  verity  of  it  is  in  strong  suspicion :  has 
the  king  found  his  heir? 
Third  Gent.  Most  true,  if  ever  truth  were  pregnant 
by  circumstance :  that  which  you  hear  you  '11 
swear  you  see,  there  is  such  unity  in  the  proofs. 
The   mantle   of   Queen   Hermione's,   her   jewel 

12a 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  V.  Sc.  ii. 

about  the  neck  of  it,  the  letters  of  Antigonus 
found  with  it,  which  they  know  to  be  his  char- 
acter, the  majesty  of  the  creature  in  resemblance 
of  the  mother,  the  affection  of  nobleness  which  40 
nature  shows  above  her  breeding,  and  many 
other  evidences  proclaim  her  with  all  certainty 
to  be  the  king's  daughter.  Did  you  see  the 
meeting  of  the  two  kings  ? 

Sec.  Gent.  No. 

Third  Gent.  Then  have  you  lost  a  sight,  which  was 
to  be  seen,  cannot  be  spoken  of.  There  might 
you  have  beheld  one  joy  crown  another,  so  and 
in  such  manner,  that  it  seemed  sorrow  wept  to 
take  leave  of  them,  for  their  joy  waded  in  tears.  50 
There  was  casting  up  of  eyes,  holding  up  of 
hands,  with  countenance  of  such  distraction,  that 
they  were  to  be  known  by  garment,  not  by  favour. 
Our  king,  being  ready  to  leap  out  of  himself  for 
joy  of  his  found  daughter,  as  if  that  joy  were 
now  become  a  loss,  cries,  '  O,  thy  mother,  thy 
mother !  '  then  asks  Bohemia  forgiveness  ;  then 
embraces  his  son-in-law ;  then  again  worries  he 
his  daughter  with  clipping  her ;  now  he  thanks 
the  old  shepherd,  which  stands  by  like  a  weather- 
bitten  conduit  of  many  kings'  reigns.  I  never  60 
heard  of  such  another  encounter,  which  lames  re- 
port to  follow  it  and  undoes  description  to  do  it. 

Sec,  Gent.  What,   pray  you,  became  of  Antigonus, 
that  carried  hence  the  child  ? 

Third  Gent.  Like  an  old  tale  still,  which  will  have 
matter  to  rehearse,  though  credit  be  asleep  and 
not  an  ear  open.     He  was  torn  to  pieces  with  a 
129 


Act  V.  Sc.  ii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

bear :  this  avouches  the  shepherd's  son ;  who  has 
not  only  his  innocence,  which  seems  much,  to     70 
justify  him,  but  a  handkerchief  and  rings  of  his 
that  PauHna  knows. 

First  Gent.  What  became  of  his  bark  and  his  fol- 
lowers ? 

Third  Gent.  Wrecked  the  same  instant  of  their  mas- 
ter's death  and  in  the  view  of  the  shepherd :  so 
that  all  the  instruments  which  aided  to  expose 
the  child  were  even  then  lost  when  it  was  found. 
But  O,  the  noble  combat  that  'twixt  joy  and  sor- 
row was  fought  in  Paulina !  She  had  one  eye  80 
declined  for  the  loss  of  her  husband,  another  ele- 
vated that  the  oracle  was  fulfilled :  she  lifted 
the  princess  from  the  earth,  and  so  locks  her  in 
embracing,  as  if  she  would  pin  her  to  her  heart 
that  she  might  no  more  be  in  danger  of  losing. 

First  Gent.  The  dignity  of  this  act  was  worth  the 
audience  of  kings  and  princes ;  for  by  such  was 
it  acted. 

Third  Gent.  One  of  the  prettiest  touches  of  all  and 

that  which  angled  for  mine  eyes,  caught  the  90 
water  though  not  the  fish,  was  when,  at  the  rela- 
tion of  the  queen's  death,  with  the  manner  how 
she  came  to  't  bravely  confessed  and  lamented  by 
the  king,  how  attentiveness  wounded  his  daugh- 
ter ;  till,  from  one  sign  of  dolour  to  another,  she 
did,  with  an  '  Alas,'  I  would  fain  say,  bleed  tears, 
for  I  am  sure  my  heart  wept  blood.  Who  was 
most  marble  there  changed  colour;  some 
swooned,  all  sorrowed :  if  all  the  world  could 
have  seen  't,  the  woe  had  been  universal.  100 

130 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  V.  Sc.  ii. 

First  Gent.  Are  they  returned  to  the  court  ? 

Third  Gent.  No:  the  princess  hearing  of  her  mother's 
statue,  which  is  in  the  keeping  of  PauHna, — 
a  piece  many  years  in  doing  and  now  newly 
performed  by  that  rare  Itahan  master,  Julio 
Romano,  who,  had  he  himself  eternity  and  could 
put  breath  into  his  work,  would  beguile  Nature 
of  her  custom,  so  perfectly  he  is  her  ape :  he  so 
near  to  Hermione  hath  done  Hermione,  that  they 
say  one  would  speak  to  her  and  stand  in  hope  of  i  lo 
answer : — thither  with  all  greediness  of  affec- 
tion are  they  gone,  and  there  they  intend  to 
sup. 

Sec.  Gent.  I  thought  she  had  some  great  matter  there 
in  hand ;  for  she  hath  privately  twice  or  thrice  a 
day,  ever  since  the  death  of  Hermione,  visited 
that  removed  house.  Shall  we  thither  and  with 
our  company  piece  the  rejoicing? 

First  Gent.  Who  would  be  thence  that  has  the  benefit 
of  access  ?  every  wink  of  an  eye,  some  new  grace 
will  be  born :  our  absence  makes  us  unthrifty  to  120 
our  knowledge.     Let 's  along.     [Exeunt  Gentlemen. 

.int.  Now,  had  I  not  the  dash  of  my  former  life 
in  me,  would  preferment  drop  on  my  head.  I 
brought  the  old  man  and  his  son  aboard  the 
prince ;  told  him  I  heard  them  talk  of  a  fardel 
and  I  know  not  what :  but  he  at  that  time,  over- 
fond  of  the  shepherd's  daughter,  so  he  then  took 
her  to  be,  who  began  to  be  much  sea-sick,  and 
himself  little  better,  extremity  of  weather  con- 
tinuing, this  mystery  remained  undiscovered.  130 
But  'tis  all  one  to  me;  for  had  I  been  the  finder 

131 


Act  V.  Sc.  ii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

out  of  this  secret,  it  would  not  have  reUshed 
among  my  other  discredits. 

Enter  Shepherd  and  Clown. 

Here  comes  those  I  have  done  good  to  against 
my  will,  and  already  appearing  in  the  blossoms 
of  their  fortune. 

Shep.  Come,  boy ;    I  am  past  moe  children,  but  thy 
sons  and  daughters  will  be  all  gentlemen  bom. 

Clo.  You  are  well  met,  sir.     You  denied  to  fight  with 

me  this  other  day,  because  I  was  no  gentleman  140 
born.  See  you  these  clothes  ?  say  you  see  them 
not  and  think  me  still  no  gentleman  born :  you 
were  best  say  these  robes  are  not  gentlemen 
born :  give  me  the  lie,  do,  and  try  whether  I 
am  not  now  a  gentleman  born. 

A lit.  I  know  you  are  now,  sir,  a  gentleman  bom. 

Clo.  Ay,  and  have  been  so  any  time  these  four  hours. 

Shep.  And  so  have  I,  boy. 

Clo.  So  you  have :  but  I  was  a  gentleman  born  before 

my  father;  for  the  king's  son  took  me  by  the  150 
hand,  and  called  me  brother;  and  then  the  two 
kings  called  my  father  brother;  and  then  the 
prince  my  brother  and  the  princess  my  sister 
called  my  father  father;  and  so  we  wept,  and 
there  was  the  first  gentleman-like  tears  that  ever 
we  shed. 

Shep.  We  may  live,  son,  to  shed  many  more. 

Clo.  Ay;    or  else  'twere  hard  luck,  being  in  so  pre- 
posterous estate  as  we  are. 

Aut.  I  humbly  beseech  you,  sir,  to  pardon  me  all  160 
the  faults  I  have  committed  to  your  worship, 

132 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  V.  Sc.  ii. 

and  to  give  me  your  good  report  to  the  prince 
my  master. 

Shep.  Prithee,  son,  do ;  for  we  must  be  gentle,  now 
we  are  gentlemen. 

Clo.  Thou  wilt  amend  thy  life? 

Aiit,  Ay,  an  it  like  your  good  worship. 

Clo.  Give  me  thy  hand :  I  will  swear  to  the  prince 
thou  art  as  honest  a  true  fellow  as  any  is  in 
Bohemia.  170 

Shep.  You  may  say  it,  but  not  swear  it. 

Clo.  Not  swear  it,  now  I  am  a  gentleman?  Let 
boors  and  franklins  say  it,  I  '11  swear  it. 

Shep.  How  if  it  be  false,  son  ? 

Clo.  If  it  be  ne'er  so  false,  a  true  gentleman  may 
swear  it  in  the  behalf  of  his  friend :  and  I  '11 
swear  to  the  prince  thou  art  a  tall  fellow  of  thy 
hands  and  that  thou  wilt  not  be  drunk;  but  I 
know  thou  art  no  tall  fellow  of  thy  hands  and 
that  thou  wilt  be  drunk :  but  I  '11  swear  it,  and  I  180 
would  thou  wouldst  be  a  tall  fellow  of  thy  hands. 

Aiit.  I  will  prove  so,  sir,  to  my  power. 

Clo.  Ay,  by  any  means  prove  a  tall  fellow :  if  I  do 
not  wonder  how  thou  darest  venture  to  be  drunk, 
not  being  a  tall  fellow,  trust  me  not.  Hark! 
the  kings  and  the  princes,  our  kindred,  are  go- 
ing to  see  the  queen's  picture.  Come,  follow 
us  :  we  '11  be  thy  good  masters.  [Exeunt, 


133 


Act  V.  Sc.  iii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Scene  III. 

A  chapel  in  Paulina's  house. 

Enter  Leontes,  Polixenes,  Florizcl,  Pcrdita,  Camillo, 
Paulina,  Lords,  and  attendants. 

Leon.  O  grave  and  good  Paulina,  the  great  comfort 
That  I  have  had  of  thee ! 

Paul.  What,  sovereign  sir, 

I  did  not  well,  I  meant  well.     All  my  services 
You  have  paid  home :   but  that  you  have  vouchsafed 
With   your   crown'd   brother   and   these   your   con- 
tracted 
Heirs  of  your  kingdoms,  my  poor  house  to  visit, 
It  is  a  surplus  of  your  grace,  which  never 
My  life  may  last  to  answer. 

Leon.  O  Paulina, 

W^e  honour  you  with  trouble :  but  we  came 

To  see  the  statue  of  our  queen:   your  gallery  lo 

Have  we  pass'd  through,  not  without  much  content 

In  many  singularities ;  but  we  saw  not 

That  which  my  daughter  came  to  look  upon. 

The  statue  of  her  mother. 

Paul.  As  she  lived  peerless, 

So  her  dead  likeness,  I  do  well  believe. 
Excels  whatever  yet  you  look'd  upon 
Or  hand  of  man  hath  done ;  therefore  I  keep  it 
Lonely,  apart.     But  here  it  is  :  prepare 
To  see  the  life  as  lively  mock'd  as  ever 
Still  sleep  mock'd  death :  behold,  and  say  'tis  well.  20 
{Paulina  drains  a  curtain,  and  discovers 
Hermione  standing  like  a  statue, 

134 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  V.  Sc.  iii. 

I  like  your  silence,  it  the  more  shows  off 

Your  wonder :   but  yet  speak ;   first,  you,  my  liege. 

Comes  it  not  something  near  ? 

Leon.  Her  natural  posture ! 

Chide  me,  dear  stone,  that  I  may  say  indeed 
Thou  art  Hermione  ;  or  rather,  thou  art  she 
In  thy  not  chiding,  for  she  was  as  tender 
As  infancy  and  grace.     But  yet,  Paulina, 
Hermione  was  not  so  much  wrinkled,  nothing 
So  aged  as  this  seems. 

Pol.  O,  not  by  much. 

Paul.  So  much  the  more  our  carver's  excellence ;  30 

Which  lets  go  by  some  sixteen  years  and  makes  her 
As  she  lived  now. 

Leon.  As  now  she  might  have  done, 

So  much  to  my  good  comfort,  as  it  is 
Now  piercing  to  my  soul.     O,  thus  she  stood. 
Even  with  such  life  of  majesty,  warm  life. 
As  now  it  coldly  stands,  when  first  I  woo'd  her ! 
I  am  ashamed :   does  not  the  stone  rebuke  me 
For  being  more  stone  than  it  ?     O  royal  piece, 
There  's  magic  in  thy  majesty,  which  has 
My  evils  conjured  to  remembrance,  and  40 

From  thy  admiring  daughter  took  the  spirits, 
Standing  like  stone  with  thee. 

Per.  And  give  me  leave, 

And  do  not  say  'tis  superstition,  that 
I  kneel  and  then  implore  her  blessing.     Lady, 
Dear  queen,  that  ended  when  I  but  began. 
Give  me  that  hand  of  yours  to  kiss. 

Pmil,  O,  patience! 

The  statue  is  but  newly  fix'd,  the  colour  's 

135 


Act  V.  Sc.  iii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Not  dry. 
Cam.  My  lord,  your  sorrow  was  too  sore  laid  on, 

Which  sixteen  winters  cannot  blow  away,  50 

So  many  summers  dry :   scarce  any  joy 

Did  ever  so  long  live;   no  sorrow 

But  kill'd  itself  much  sooner. 
Pol.  Dear  my  brother. 

Let  him  that  was  the  cause  of  this  have  power 

To  take  off  so  much  grief  from  you  as  he 

Will  piece  up  in  himself. 
Paul.  Indeed,  my  lord, 

If  I  had  thought  the  sight  of  my  poor  image 

Would  thus  have  wrought  you,  for  the  stone  is  mine, 

I  'Id  not  have  show'd  it. 
Leon.  Do  not  draw  the  curtain. 

Paul.  No  longer  shall  you  gaze  on  't,  lest  your  fancy    60 

May  think  anon  it  moves. 
Leon.  Let  be,  let  be. 

Would  I  were  dead,  but  that,  methinks,  already — 

What  was  he  that  did  make  it?     See,  my  lord, 

Would  you  not  deem  it  breathed  ?  and  that  those  veins 

Did  verily  bear  blood? 
Pol.  Masterly  done: 

The  very  life  seems  warm  upon  her  Hp. 
Leon.  The  fixture  of  her  eye  has  motion  in  't. 

As  we  are  mock'd  with  art. 
Paul.  I  '11  draw  the  curtain: 

My  lord  's  almost  so  far  transported  that 

He  '11  think  anon  it  lives. 
Leon.  O  sweet  Paulina,  70 

Make  me  to  think  so  twenty  years  together ! 
136 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  V.  Sc.  iii. 

No  settled  senses  of  the  world  can  match 
The  pleasure  of  that  madness.     Let 't  alone. 

Paul.  I  am  sorry,  sir,  I  have  thus  far  stirr'd  you :  but 
I  could  afflict  you  farther. 

Leon.  Do,  Paulina; 

For  this  affliction  has  a  taste  as  sweet 
As  any  cordial  comfort.     Still,  methinks. 
There  is  an  air  comes  from  her  :  what  fine  chisel 
Could  ever  yet  cut  breath  ?     Let  no  man  mock  me, 
For  I  will  kiss  her. 

Paul.  Good  my  lord,  forbear :  80 

The  ruddiness  upon  her  lip  is  wet ; 
You  '11  mar  it  if  you  kiss  it,  stain  your  own 
With  oily  painting.     Shall  I  draw  the  curtain  ? 

Leon.  No,  not  these  twenty  years. 

Per.  So  long  could  I 

Stand  by,  a  looker  on. 

Paul.  Either  forbear. 

Quit  presently  the  chapel,  or  resolve  you 
For  more  amazement.     If  you  can  behold  it, 
I  '11  make  the  statue  move  indeed,  descend 
And  take  you  by  the  hand :  but  then  you  '11  think, 
Which  I  protest  against,  I  am  assisted  90 

By  wicked  powers. 

Leon.  What  you  can  make  her  do, 

I  am  content  to  look  on :   what  to  speak, 
I  am  content  to  hear ;   for  'tis  as  easy 
To  make  her  speak  as  move. 

Paul.  It  is  required 

You  do  awake  your  faith.     Then  all  stand  still ; 
On :  those  that  think  it  is  unlawful  business 
I  am  about,  let  them  depart. 

137 


Act  V.  Sc.  iii.  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Leon.  Proceed : 

No  foot  shall  stir. 

Paul.  Music,  awake  her ;    strike !     YMusic. 

Tis  time;   descend;  be  stone  no  more;   approach; 
Strike  all  that  look  upon  with  marvel.     Come,      lOO 
I  '11  fill  your  grave  up :   stir,  nay,  come  away. 
Bequeath  to  death  your  numbness,  for  from  him 
Dear  life  redeems  you.     You  perceive  she  stirs  : 

[Hermione  comes  down. 
Start  not ;  her  actions  shall  be  holy  as 
You  hear  my  spell  is  lawful :   do  not  shun  her 
Until  you  see  her  die  again ;   for  then 
You  kill  her  double.     Nay,  present  your  hand : 
When  she  was  young  you  woo'd  her ;  now  in  age 
Is  she  become  the  suitor  ? 

Leon.  O,  she  's  warm ! 

If  this  be  magic,  let  it  be  an  art  -1 10 

Lawful  as  eating. 

Pol.  She  embraces  him. 

Cam.  She  hangs  about  his  neck : 

If  she  pertain  to  life  let  her  speak  too. 

Pol.  Ay,  and  make  't  manifest  where  she  has  lived. 
Or  how  stolen  from  the  dead. 

Paul.  That  she  is  living, 

Were  it  but  told  you,  should  be  hooted  at 
Like  an  old  tale :  but  it  appears  she  lives. 
Though  yet  she  speak  not.     Mark  a  little  while. 
Please* you  to  interpose,  fair  madam:   kneel 
And  pray  your  mother's  blessing.     Turn,  good  lady ; 
Our  Perdita  is  found. 

Her.  You  gods,  look  down,         I2I 

And  from  your  sacred  vials  pour  your  graces 
138 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Act  V.  Sc.  iii. 

Upon  my  daughter's  head !     Tell  me,  mine  own, 
Where  hast  thou  been  preserved  ?  where  lived  ?  how 

found 
Thy  father's  court  ?   for  thou  shalt  hear  that  I, 
Knowing  by  Paulina  that  the  oracle 
Gave  hope  thou  wast  in  being,  have  preserved 
Myself  to  see  the  issue. 

Paul.  There  's  time  enough  for  that ; 

Lest  they  desire  upon  this  push  to  trouble 
Your  joys  with  like  relation.     Go  together,  130 

You  precious  winners  all ;  your  exultation 
Partake  to  every  one.     I,  an  old  turtle, 
Will  wing  me  to  some  wither'd  bough  and  there 
My  mate,  that 's  never  to  be  found  again, 
Lament  till  I  am  lost. 

Leon.  O,  peace,  Paulina ! 

Thou  shouldst  a  husband  take  by  my  consent. 

As  I  by  thine  a  wife :   this  is  a  match. 

And  made  between  's  by  vows.     Thou  hast   found 

mine ; 
But  how,  is  to  be  question'd ;   for  I  saw  her. 
As  I  thought,  dead ;   and  have  in  vain  said  many  140 
A  prayer  upon  her  grave.     I  '11  not  seek  far, — 
For  him,  I  partly  know  his  mind, — to  find  thee 
An  honourable  husband.     Come,  Camillo, 
And  take  her  by  the  hand,  whose  worth  and  honesty 
Is  richly  noted  and  here  justified 
By  us,  a  pair  of  kings.     Let 's  from  this  place. 
W^hat !   look  upon  my  brother  :   both  your  pardons. 
That  e'er  I  put  between  your  holy  looks 
My  ill  suspicion.     This  your  son-in-law, 
And  son  unto  the  king,  whom  heavens  directing,    150 

139 


Act  V.  Sc.  iii. 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


Is  troth-plight  to  your  daughter.     Good  Paulina, 
Lead  us  from  hence,  where  we  may  leisurely 
Each  one  demand,  and  answer  to  his  part 
Perform'd  in  this  wide  gap  of  time,  since  first 
We  were  dissever'd :  hastily  lead  away.         [Exeunt. 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


Glossary. 


Abide,  sojourn  for  a  short 
time;  "  no  more  but  a."  =  only 
make  a  short  stay ;  IV.  iii.  95. 

Aboard  him,  i.e.  aboard  his 
ship;  IV.  iv.  853. 

Abused,  deceived;  II.  i.  141. 

Action,  suit  (perhaps  "  this  a. 
I  now  go  on  "  =  this  which  I 
am  now  to  undergo)  ;  II.  i. 
121. 

Address  yourself,  prepare ;  IV. 
iv.  53- 

Adventure,  venture ;  I.  ii.  38 ; 
II.  iii.  162;  dare;  IV.  iv.  464. 

Adventure  of,  risk  of;  V.  i.  156. 

Afar  off,  indirectly;  II.  i.   104. 

Affection,  instinct;  I.  ii.  138; 
disposition,  V.  ii.  40. 

Affront,  confront,  come  be- 
fore; V.  i.  75. 

Air,  breath ;  V.  iii.  78. 

'Alack  for  lesser  knowledge' ; 
i.e.  "  Oh,  would  that  I  had 
less  knowledge":  II.  i.  38. 

Allow' d,  allowable;  I.  ii.  263. 

Allowing,  approving;  I.  ii.  185. 

Amazedly,  confusedly;  V.  i. 
187. 

Amazedness,  amazement,  sur- 
prise; V.  ii.  5. 

Ancient,  old;  IV.  iv.  79. 

Ancientry,  old  people;  III.  iii. 

Another,  the  other;  IV.  iv.  176; 
V.  ii.  82. 


Ape,  imitator ;  V.  ii.  108. 
Ape-bearer,     one     who     leads 

about  apes ;  IV.  iii.  98. 
Apparent,  heir  apparent ;  I.  ii. 

I77._ 
Appoint,  dress;  I.  ii.  326. 
Appointed,    equipped;    IV.    iv. 

597- 

Approbation,  attestation,  con- 
firmation; II.  i.  177. 

Approved,  proved,  tried;  IV.  ii. 
31. 

Aspect,  "  the  peculiar  position 
and  influence  of  a  planet " ; 
II.  i.  107. 

At,  (?)  to  (perhaps  "when 
at  Bohemia  you  take  my 
lord  "="  when  you  have  my 
lord  in  Bohemia")  ;   I.  ii.  39. 

At  friend  (so  Folio  i ;  Folio 
2,  "as  friend"),  "on  terms 
of  friendship  " ;    V.  i.   140. 

Attach,  arrest;  V.  i.  182. 

Attorneyed,  performed  by 
proxy;  I.  i.  29. 

Aunts,  mistresses  {cp.  doxy)  ; 
IV.  iii.  II 

Avails,  is  of  advantage;  III.  ii. 
87. 

Avoid,  depart ;  I.  ii.  462. 

Bar,  exclude ;  IV.  iv.  434. 
Barne,  a  little  child;  III.  iii.  71. 
Baseness,  bastardy ;   II.  iii.  78. 


141 


Glossary 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


Basilisk,  a  fabulous  serpent 
supposed  to  kill  by  its  look ; 
I.  ii. 


From  an  illuminated  MS.  of  XIV  th 
century. 

Bawcock,  a  term  of  endear- 
ment (always  masculine)  ;  I. 
ii.  121. 

Bearing-cloth,  "  the  mantle  or 
cloth  in  which  a  child  was 
carried  to  the  font  " ;  III.  iii. 
119.     {Cp.  illustration.) 

Bench' d,  raised  to  authority;  I. 
ii.  314. 

Bents,  dispositions ;  I.  ii.  179. 

Bide,  dwell  upon,  repeat;  I.  ii. 
242. 

Blank,  "the  white  mark  in  the 


centre  of  a  butt,  the  aim  "  ;  II. 
iii.  5. 
Blench,  start  or  fly  off;   I.  ii. 

333. 
Bless  me,  preserve  me ;  IV.  iv. 

268. 
Blocks,  blockheads;  I.  ii.  225. 
Blusters,    boisterous    tempests; 

III.  iii.  4. 
Bohemia='th.e  king  of  B. ;  I.  i.  7. 
Boot,  avail;  III.  ii.  26. 


From  a  French  (print  c.  1600  a.d.) 
by  Bonnart. 

Boot,  profit;  IV.  iv.  644; 
"  grace  to  be,"  "  God  help 
us  "  ;  I.  ii.  80. 


From  an  illumination  in  the  Loutterell  Psalter  (XlVth  Cent.). 
142 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


Glossary 


Boring,  perforating;  III.  iii.  93. 

Borrow,  borrowing;  I.  ii.  39. 

Bosom,  inmost  thoughts;  IV. 
iv.  568. 

Bourn,  limit,  line  of  demarca- 
tion; I.  ii.  134. 

Brands,  marks  of  infamy,  stig- 
mas ;  II.  i.  71. 

Brave,  fine;  IV.  iv.  202. 

Break-neck,  "  dangerous  busi- 
ness " ;  I.  ii.  363. 

Breed,  educate ;  III.  iii.  48. 

Bring,  take,  accompany ;  IV.  iii. 
119. 

Bug,  bugbear;  III.  ii.  93. 

Bugle,  a  long  bead  of  black 
glass ;  IV.  iv.  223. 

But,  but  that ;  V.  i.  141. 

But  that,  only  because ;  II.  i. 
105. 

By-gone  day,  day  gone  by  this 
=  yesterday;  I.  ii.  32. 

Caddisses,  worsted  ribbons;  IV. 
iv.  208. 

Callat,  a  woman  of  bad  char- 
acter; II.  iii.  90. 

Game  home,  "  did  not  get 
hold  "  (a  nautical  term)  ;  I. 
ii.  214. 

Cap-a-pe,  from  head  to  foot ; 
IV.  iv.  749. 

Caparison,  literally  horse-cloth; 
here  used  for  "  rags  "  ;  IV.  iii. 
27. 

Carbonadoed,  cut  across  for 
broiling ;   IV.  iv.  265. 

Carriage,  carrying  on,  manage- 
ment ;  III.  i.  17. 

Carver,  sculptor;  V.  iii.  30. 

Censure,  judgement;  II.  i.  37. 


Centre,  "  the  earth  as  the  sup- 
posed centre  of  the  world  "  ; 

II.  i.  102. 
Chamber-councils,    "private 

thoughts    or    intentions " ;    I. 

ii.  237. 
Changed,  exchanged ;  I.  ii.  68. 
Changeling,  a  child  left  by  the 

fairies  in  the  place  of  another ; 

III.  iii.  122. 

Character,  handwriting;  V.  ii. 
38. 

Charge,  weight,  value;  IV.  iv. 
258. 

Cheat   {v.  silly)  ;  IV.  iii.  28. 

Child,  a  girl;  "a  boy  or  a 
child";  III.  iii.  71. 

Childness,  childishness ;  I.  ii. 
170. 

Churl,  peasant ;  IV.  iv.  437. 

Circumstance,  ceremony,  pomp ; 
V.  i.  90;  facts  which  are  evi- 
dence   of    the    truth;    V.    ii. 

Clamour   {vide  Note)  ;  IV.  iv. 

249. 
Clap,    clap    hands,    i.e.    pledge 

faith  (a  token  of  troth-plight- 
ing) ;  I.  ii.  104. 
Clear' d,  excepted;  I.  ii.  74. 
Clerk-like,   scholar-like;     I.    ii. 

392. 
Climate,  reside,  sojourn;  V.  i. 

170. 
Clipping,  embracing;  V.  ii.  59. 
Cock,    woodcock,    a    metaphor 

for  a  fool ;  IV.  iii.  36. 
Collop,  part  of  a  man's  flesh;  I. 

ii.  137. 
Colour,  reason,  pretext;  IV.  iv. 

560. 


143 


Glossary 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


Comforting,    assisting;    II.    iii. 

56. 
Comforts,  consolation ;   IV.   iv. 

562. 
Commend,  commit ;  XL  iii.  182. 
Commission,  warrant ;  I.  ii.  144. 
Commodity,  advantage ;  III.  ii. 

94. 
Compassed,    gained    possession 

of;  IV.  iii.  99. 
Conceit,  intelligence  ;  L  ii.  224  ; 

idea;  III.  ii.  145. 
Concerns,     is     of     importance ; 

III.  ii.  87. 

Considered,  requited,  paid ;  IV. 
iv.  811. 

Content,  pleasure,  delight ;  V. 
iii.   II. 

Continent,  chaste;  III.  ii.  35. 

Contract,  marriage-contract,  es- 
pousals; V.  i.  204. 

Contrary,  opposite  side ;  I.  ii. 
372. 

Copest  with,  has   to  do   with ; 

IV.  iv.  429. 

Corse,  corpse ;  IV.  iv.  129. 
Counters,   "  a   round    piece    of 

metal  used  in  calculations  "  ; 

IV.  iii.  2>7- 


Crack,  flaw ;  I.  ii.  322. 

Credent,  credible ;  I.  ii.  142. 

Crone,  old  woman ;  II.  iii.  yG. 

Crown  imperial,  the  Tritellaria 
iniperialis,  early  introduced 
from  Constantinople  into 
England;  IV.  iv.  126. 

Curious,  requiring  care,  embar- 
rassing; IV.  iv.  519. 

Curst,  wicked ;  III.  iii.  134. 

Custom;  "  with  a  c,"  from  hab- 
it, IV.  iv.  12;  trade,  custom, 
V.  ii.  108. 

Cypress,  crape;  IV.  iv.  220. 

Dances,  throbs;  I.  ii.  no. 

Dead,  deadly;  IV.  iv.  439. 

Dear,  devoted;  II.  iii.  150. 

Deliver,  communicate ;  IV.  iv. 
503 ;  narrate ;  V.  ii.  4. 

Delphos,  Delphi ;  II.  i.  183. 

Denied,  refused;  V.  ii.  139. 

Derivative,  transmission  by  de- 
scent ;  III.  ii.  45. 

Dibble,  "a  pointed  instrument 
to  make  holes  for  planting 
seeds  "  ;  IV.  iv.  100. 

Die,  gaming  with  the  dice;  IV. 
iii.  27. 


From  an  Engraving  in  Knight's  Pictorial  Shakespeare. 


Cozened,  cheated ;  IV.  iv.  252. 
Cozeners,  sharpers ;  IV.  iv.  254. 


Difference,  i.e.   d.    in   our   sta- 
tions in  life;  IV.  iv.  17. 


144 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


Glossary 


Dildos,    a    burden    in    popular 

songs;  IV.  iv.  195. 
Dim;  "  violets  dim,"  prob.  "  of 

quiet    colour,    not     showy " ; 

IV.  iv.  120. 
Disease,  undress;  IV.  iv.  641. 
Discontenting,        discontented ; 

IV.  iv.  537. 
Discover,  disclose,  shew  ;  III.  i. 

20;  communicate;  IV.  iv.  731. 
Discover'd,  betrayed ;  II.  i.  50. 
Discovery,  disclosure;  I.  ii.  441. 
Disliken,  disguise;  IV.  iv.  659. 
Dispute,        "  discuss,        reason 

upon  "  ;  IV.  IV.  405. 
Dis's  waggon,  Pluto's  chariot ; 

IV.  iv.  118. 
Distinguishment,       distinction ; 

II.  i.  86. 
Divorce,     separation;     IV.     iv. 

422. 
Do,  describe ;  V.  ii.  63. 
Double,  doubly;  V.  iii.  107. 
Doxy,  mistress  (a  cant  term)  ; 

IV.  iii.  2. 
Drab,  a  lewd  woman  ;  IV.  iii.  27. 
Dread,    apprehension ;    IV.    iv. 

17- 
Dread,   awful,    revered ;     I.    ii. 

322. 
Dreams,  idle  fancy ;  III.  ii.  82. 
Dungy,  filthy;  II.  i.  157. 

Earnest,  earnest-money,  hand- 
sel; IV.  iv.  652. 

^  Eggs  for  money,'  a  proverbial 
expression ;  meaning  to  put 
up  with  an  affront,  or  to  act 
cowardly;  I.  ii.  161. 

Embracement,  embrace;  V.  i. 
114. 


Encounter,   behaviour ;    III.    ii. 

50. 
Encounter,  befall;  II.  i.  20. 
Enfoldings,   garments ;    IV.    iv. 

743- 

Estate,  affairs ;  IV.  iv.  405. 

Estate ;  "  unspeakable  e.,"  i.e. 
great  possessions;   IV.  ii.  46. 

Eternity,  immortality ;  V.  ii. 
106. 

Excrement,  beard;  IV.  iv.  724. 

Extremes,  extravagance  (of 
praise ;  and  perhaps  also  in 
allusion  to  the  extravagance 
of  her  attire)  ;  IV.  iv.  6. 

Eyed,  held  in  view ;  II.  i.  35. 

Fadings,  a  common  burden  of 

songs;  IV.  iv.'  195. 
Fail,  failure;  II.  iii.  170;  want; 

V.  i.  27. 
Falling,  letting  fall ;  I.  ii.  37^. 
Fancy,  love;  IV.  iv.  487. 
Fardel       (Folio      "farthell"), 

pack,  bundle;  IV.  iv.  718. 


From  Holme's  Academy  of  Armory 
(1688). 

Fashion,    kinds,    sorts;    III.    ii. 

105. 
Favour,  countenance,  look;  V. 

ii-  53. 


145 


Glossary 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


Fearful,  full  of  fear;  I.  ii.  250. 

Featly,  neatly,  adroitly;  IV.  iv. 
176. 

Fcderary,  accomplice;  II.  i.  90. 

Feeding,  pasturage ;  IV.  iv.  169. 

Felloivs,  comrades ;  II.  iii.  142. 

Fetch  off,  "  make  away  with  "  ; 
1.  ii.  334- 

Fixure,  direction;  V.  iii.  67. 

Flap-dragoned,  swallowed  it 
like  a' flap-dragon  (i.e.  snap- 
dragon) ;  III.  iii.  100. 

Flatness,  completeness;  III.  ii. 
123. 

Flaunts,  finery,  showy  apparel ; 

IV.  iv.  23. 

Flax-wench,  a  woman  whose 
occupation  is  to  dress  flax;  I. 
ii.  277. 

Flayed,  stripped,  skinned ;  IV. 
iv.  648. 

Flower-de-luce,  fleur-de-lys  (it 
is  uncertain  whether  Shake- 
speare was  thinking  of  a  lily 
or  an  iris)  ;  IV.  iv.  127. 

Fond,  foolish;  IV.  iv.  431. 

Fools,  "  a  term  of  endearment 
and  pity";  II.  i.  118. 

For,  because;  III.  i.  4;  IV.  iv. 
86. 

For  because,  because;  II.  i.  7. 

Force,  necessity ;  IV.  iv.  428. 

Forced,  strained,  far-fetched 
(or  "  mistaken  ")  ;  IV.  iv.  41. 

Forceful,  strong;  II.  i.  163. 

'Fore,  before;  III.  ii.  42. 

Forefend,  forbid;  TV.  iv.  535. 

Forges,  causes,  produces;  IV. 
iv.  17. 

Fork'd,  horned;  I.  ii.  186. 

Framed,  planned,  pre-arranged ; 

V.  i.  91. 


Franklins,  yeomen ;  V.  ii.   173. 

Fraught,  freighted,  burdened; 
IV.  iv.  519. 

Free,  noble  (perhaps  volun- 
tary) ;  II.  ii.  44;  guiltless,  II. 
iii.  30;  accessible  to  all,  II.  i. 
194 ;    eager,    ready ;     IV.    iv. 

553. 

Fresh,  youthful ;  IV.  iv.  427 ; 
IV.  iv.  556. 

Friends ;  "  these  unknown  f. 
to's";  these  friends  un- 
known to  us ;  IV.  iv.  65. 

Friendships,  kind  services;  IV. 
ii.  22. 

From,  away  from ;  IV.  ii.  43. 

Furnish' d,  equipped,  fitted  out ; 
IV.  iv.  593- 

GalVd,  harassed,  injured;  I.  ii. 
316. 

Gallimaufry,  medley,  hotch- 
potch ;  IV.  iv.  330. 

Gallows,  i.e.  the  fear  or  risk  of 
the  g. ;  IV.  iii.  28. 

Gentle,  adjective  used  substan- 
tively =  gentle  one  ;  IV.  iv. 
46;  gentlemen;  I.  ii.  394. 

Gently,  moderately;  IV.  iv.  811. 

Gentry,  birth;  I.  ii.  393- 

Germane,  akin,  related;  IV.  iv. 
788.  • 

Gest,  appointed  stages  of  a  roy- 
al progress,  hence  the  fixed 
limit  of  a  visit;  I.  ii.  41. 

Gillyvors,  gillyflowers;  a  vari- 
ety of  the  carnation ;  IV.  iv. 
82. 

Give  out,  proclaim;  IV.  iv.  149. 

Glass,  hour-glass ;  I.  ii.  306. 

Glisters,  shines,  sparkles;  III. 
ii.  171. 


146 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


Glossary 


Gloves;  "  g.  as  sweet  as  dam- 
ask roses  " ;  alluding  to  the 
custom  of  perfuming  gloves ; 
IV.  iv.  221. 

Go  about,  intend ;  IV.  iv.  218 ; 
attempt;  IV.  iv.  711. 

Goal,  point  at  issue ;  I.  ii.  96. 

Good  deed,  in  very  deed;  I.  ii. 
42. 

Gorge,  stomach ;  II.  i.  44. 

Gossips,  sponsors ;  II.  iii.  41. 

Grace,  favour;  III.  ii.  48. 

Gracious,  prosperous ;  III.  i, 
22 ;  endov^ed  with  grace ;  IV. 
ii.  30. 

Grafted  in  my  serious  trust, 
trusted  without  reserve,  ab- 
solutely ;  I.  ii.  246. 

Gust,  taste,  perceive;  I.  ii.  219. 

Guilty  to,  chargeable  for;  IV. 
iv.  543. 

Haled,  dragged;  III.  ii.  102. 
Hammer' d  of,  pondered  upon ; 

II.  ii.  49. 
Hand,  lay  hands  on ;  II.  iii.  63. 


Hand-fast,  custody,  confine- 
ment ;  IV.  iv.  781. 

Hangman,  executioner;  IV.  iv. 
462. 

'  Happy  man  he  's  dole,'  a  pro- 
verbial expression  =  "  May 
his  dole  or  share  in  life  be  to 
be  a  happy  man  "  ;  I.  ii.  163. 

Harlot,  lewd ;  H.  iii.  4. 

Have,  possess ;  IV.  iv.  568. 

Have  at,  I  '11  try ;  IV.  iv.  297. 

Having,  possessions,  property ; 
IV.  iv.  729. 

Heat,  traverse  (as  at  a  race)  ; 
I.  ii.  96. 

Heavings,  sighs;  II.  iii.  35. 

Heavy,  sad,  sorrowful;  III.  iii. 
115- 

Hefts,  retchings;  II.  i.  45. 

Hent,  pass  beyond ;  IV.  iii.  130. 

Hereditary,  i.e.  derived  from 
our  first  parents  (alluding  to 
"  original  sin  ")  ;  I.  ii.  75. 

Him,  by  him  (  ?  the  man)  ;  I.  ii. 
412. 

Hobby-horse;  I.  ii.  276.  (See  il- 
lustration.) 


From  an  early  painting  in  the  Fitzwilliam  Museum,  Cambridge. 
(Note  the  familiar  tabor  and  pipe.)  . 


147 


Glossary 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


Holy,  pious,  good,  V.  i.  170 ; 
blameless,  V.  iii.  148. 

Home,  out,  to  the  end ;  I.  ii. 
248;  fully,  V.  iii.  4. 

Honest,  chaste,  virtuous ;  II.  i. 
68. 

Hot,  active ;  IV.  iv.  692. 

Hovering,  "  irresolute,  waver- 
ing " ;  I.  ii.  302. 

Hexes,  hamstrings ;  I.  ii.  244. 

/'  fecks,  in  fact ;  I.  ii.  120. 

Immodest,  immoderate ;  III.  ii. 
103. 

Impawn' d,  in  pledge ;  I.  ii.  436. 

Importance,  import ;   V.   ii.  20. 

Incense,  incite;  V.  i.  61. 

Incertain,  uncertain ;  V.  i.  29. 

Incertainties,  "  accidents  of  for- 
tune ";  III.  ii.  170. 

Incidency,  "  a  falling  on  ";  I.  ii. 

403. 

Inconstant,  fickle ;   III.  ii.    187. 
Industriously,     "  deliberately  "  ; 

I.  ii.  256. 
Injury     of     tongues,     mischief 

caused  by  scandal ;  I.  ii.  338. 
Inkle,  a  kind  of  tape ;   IV.  iv. 

208. 
Insinuate,  intermeddle ;  IV.  iv. 

746. 
Instigation,   incitement ;    II.    i. 

163. 

Intelligencing,  carrying  intelli- 
gence ;  II.  iii.  68. 

Intelligent,  communicative ;  I. 
ii.  378. 

Intention,  aim ;  I.  ii.  138. 

Irremovable,  immovable ;  IV. 
iv.  512. 

It,  its;  II.  iii.  178. 

It  is,  he  is ;  I.  i.  38. 


lar,  tick;  I.  ii.  43. 

lewel,  personal  ornament  of 
gold  or  precious  stones ;  V.  ii. 
36. 

lulio  Romano  {v.  Note)  ;  V.  ii. 
105. 

lustiiied,  confirmed,  ratified ;  V. 
iii.  145.^ 

lusiify  him,  confirm  his  asser- 
tion; V.  ii.  71. 

Kiln-hole  the  opening  of  an 
oven ;  probably  the  fire-place 
used  in  making  malt ;  a  not- 
ed gossiping  place;  IV.  iv. 
246. 

Knacks,  knick-knacks ;   IV.   iv. 

354- 
Knock,  cuffs,  blows;  IV.  iii.  29. 

Land,  nation ;  IV.  iv.  8. 
Land-damn  {vide  Note)  ;  II.  i. 

143. 
Lasting,  everlasting;  eternal;  I. 

ii.  317. 
Lay  me,  bury  me;  IV.  iv.  462. 
Lays  on,  does  it  in  good  style; 

IV.  iii.  43. 
Lean  to,  incline,  tend  towards ; 

II.  i.  64. 
Let,  let  remain;  I.  ii.  41. 
Level,  direction  of,  aim ;  III.  ii. 

82. 
'Leven,  eleven ;  IV.  iii.  ZZ- 
List,  care,  choose ;  IV.  i.  26. 
,    listen,    hearken ;    IV.    iv. 

546. 
Like,  likely ;  II.  ii.  27. 
Like,  "an'  it  like,"  if  it  please; 

IV.  iv.  726. 
Limber,  flexible,  easy  bent;   I. 

li.  47. 


148 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


Glossary 


Limit,  ''strength  of  1.,"  limited 

strength ;  III,  ii.  107. 
Lively,  naturally ;  V.  iii.  19, 
Look   out;   "  makes  her    blood 

I.  o./'  i.e.  makes  her  blush ; 
IV.  iv.   160. 

Look  upon,  take  notice  of;  IV. 
li.  41. 

Lordings,  lordlings ;  I.  ii.  62. 

Loss,  be  discarded;  II.  iii.  192. 

Loud,  tempestuous;  III.  iii.  11. 

Lower  messes,  "  persons  of  in- 
ferior rank  "  (properly  those 
who  sat  at  the  lower  end  of 
the  table)  ;  I.  ii.  227. 

Lozel,  cowardly  fellow ;  II.  iii. 
109. 

Lunes,  mad  freaks ;  II.  ii.  30. 

Lusty,  lively,  active;  II.  ii.  27. 

Maidenheads,        maidenhoods; 

IV.  iv.  116. 

Mankind,  masculine ;  II.  iii.  67. 
Mannerly,  decent;  II.  i.  86. 
Marble;   "most  m.,"  the  most 

hard-hearted ;  V.  ii.  98. 
Margery,  a  term  of  contempt ; 

II.  iii.  160. 

Mark,  pattern ;  IV.  iv.  8. 
Marted,  traded;  IV.  iv.  357. 
Marvel,  astonishment ;  V.  i.  188. 
Masters,  well-wisners,  patrons; 

V.  ii.  188. 

Meaner  form,  lower  position;  I. 

ii.  313- 
Masters,  well-wishers,  patrons ; 

ors;   IV.  iii.  46. 
Measure,  stately  tread ;  IV.  iv. 

743. 
Measure,  judge  of;  II.  i.  114. 
Medicine,    physician;     IV.     iv. 

592. 


Medler,  busybody;  IV.  iv.  323. 

Meet,  proper,  fit ;  II.  ii.  46. 

Men  of  hair,  dressed  in  goat- 
skins to  resemble  satyrs ;  IV. 
iv.  327. 


From  Kiichler's  Pag-eatits  and  Tour- 
ney at  Stuttgard  (1609). 


Mere,    absolute;    III.    ii.    142; 

only,  III.  ii.  145. 
Mess,  course  (of  a  feast)  ;  IV. 

iv.  II. 
Midwife,     old     woman,      used 

^  contemptuously  ;  II.  iii.  160. 
Moe,  more ;  I.  ii.  8. 
Moiety,  part,  portion;  II.  iii.  8; 

half.  III.  ii.  40. 
Mortal,  fatal ;  III.  ii.  149. 
Mort  0'  the  deer,  a  note  blown 

at  the  death  of  the  deer ;  I.  ii. 

118. 
Motion,   puppet-show ;    IV.    iii. 

103.     (See  illustration.) 


149 


Glossary 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


A  motion  of  the  prodigal  son. 
From  an  English  woodcut  of  XVIIth  century. 


Nay  ward,  contradiction;  II.    i. 

Near,  like,  resembling;  V.  ii. 
109. 

Neat,  used  with  a  quibble  upon 
"  neat  "  =  horned  cattle  ;  I.  ii. 
123. 

Neat-herds,  cow-keepers ;  IV. 
iv.  326. 

Neb,  beak  =  mouth;  I.  ii.  183. 

Necklace  amber,  "an  amber  of 
which  necklaces  were  made, 
commonly  called  '  bead-am- 
ber,' fit  to  perfume  a  lady's 
chamber  "  ;  IV.  iv.  223. 

Next,  nearest ;  III.  iii.  127. 

Note,  mark,  sign;  I.  ii.  287; 
knowledge,  I.  i.  40;  distinc- 
tion, eminence,  IV.  ii.  48; 
mark  for  measuring  time ; 
"  shepherd's  note  "  =  t  h  e 
shepherd  hath  observed, 
noted;  I.  ii.  2. 


Noted,  respected;  V.  iii.  145. 

1 

O'erzvecn,  am  overbold,  pre- 
sume ;  IV.  ii.  9. 

Of,  off  (=on);  "browzing  of 
ivy  "  ;  III.  iii.  69. 

Of,  some  of ;  "  you  have  of,"  i.e. 
there  are  some ;  IV.  iv.  216. 

OtHced,  "  having  a  place  of 
function  " ;   I.  ii.   172. 

O'  life  (Folio  "  a  life  "),  on  my 
life;  IV.  iv.  260. 

On,  of;  II.  ii.  23. 

On  't,  of  it ;  II.  i.  169. 

Out,  on  the  wrong  scent ;  II.  i( 
72. 

Out  of,  without ;  V.  i.  90. 

Over,  over  us ;  IV.  iv.  661. 

Overture,  disclosure;  II.  i.  172. 

Paddling  palms,  toying  with 
hands;  used  contemptuously; 
I.  ii.  US- 


ISO 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


Glossary 


Pale,  paleness  (with  probably  a 
play  on  the  other  sense,  limit, 
boundary)  ;  IV.  iii.  4, 

Pandar,  go-between ;  II,  i,  46. 

P antler,  the  servant  who  had 
charge  of  the  pantry;  IV.  iv. 
56. 

Paragon,  pattern  of  supreme 
excellence;  V.  i.  153. 

Part,  depart;  I.  ii.  10;  divide,  I. 
ii.  18. 

Partake,  communicate ;  V.  iii. 
132. 

Partlet;  "  Dame  P."  alluding  to 
Chaucer's  Nonne  Prestes 
Tale,  where  P.  is  the  name 
of  the  favourite  hen  of 
Chauntecleer ;  II.  iii.  75. 

Parts,  actions,  tasks ;  I.  ii.  400. 

Pash,  head;  I.  ii.  128. 

Passes,  surpasses ;  II.  ii.  20. 

Passing,  surpassing;  IV.  iv. 
289. 

Pattern,  match  ;  III.  ii.  27- 

Pay  your  fees;  alluding  to  fees 
paid  by  prisoners,  whether 
guilty  or  not,  on  their  libera- 
tion; I.  ii.  53. 

Peer,  peep  out ;  IV.  iii.  i. 

Peering,  disclosing  (herself)  ; 
IV.  iv.  3. 

Perfect,  sure ;  III.  iii.  i. 

Performed,  executed ;  V.  ii.  105. 

Pettitoes,  pigs'  feet ;  used  con- 
temptuously; IV.  iv.  613. 

Physics,     heals,     cures;     I.     i. 

43. 
Picture,    appearance ;     IV.     iv. 

609;    painted    statue;    V.    ii. 

187. 
Piece,  complete;  V.  ii.  117. 


Piece   up,  hoard  up,   so  as  to 

have  his  fill ;  V.  iii.  56. 
Picdness,    variegation;    IV.    iv. 

87. 
Pin  and  web,  the  disease  of  the 

eyes,  now  known  as  cataract ; 

I.  ii.  291. 
Pinch'd,  made  ridiculous;  II.  i. 

51. 

Places,  position,  station;  I.  ii. 
4+8. 

Plackets,  some  special  article  of 
female  attire ;  IV.  iv.  244. 

Plucking,  pulling;   IV.  iv.  470. 

Points,  tagged  laces  for  fasten- 
ing various  articles  of  attire ; 
here  an  obvious  play  on  the 
word;  IV.  iv.  206.  {Cp.  illus- 
tration in  Tivelfth  Night.) 

Poking-siicks,  small  iron,  brass, 
or  silver  rods,  which  were 
heated,  and  used  for  setting 


From  a  sppc'men  in  the  Londes- 
borouj^h  collection. 


Glossary 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


the   plaits    of    ruffs ;    IV.    iv. 

227. 
Pomander,  "  a  ball  composed  of 

perfumes  ";  IV.  iv.  603.    {Cp. 

illustration.) 
Ponderous,  forcible;  IV.  iv.  529. 
Post;  "in  p.,"  in  haste;   II.  i. 

1S2. 
Posterns,  the  smaller  gates  of 

a  city;  I.  ii.  438. 
Pound     and     odd     shilling, 

twenty-one     shillings,   a 

guinea ;  IV.  iii.  34. 
Power;  "  to  my  p.,"  to  the  best 

of  my  power ;  V.  ii.  182. 
Powerful,  forcible,  hence  "  de- 
terrent " ;  IV.  iii.  29. 
Practice,  artifice,  device;  III.  ii. 

168. 
Prank'd       up,       decked       up, 

adorned ;  IV.  iv.  10. 
Predominant,    used    as    an    as- 
trological term ;  I.  ii.  202. 
Pregnant,  made  plausible ;  V.  ii. 

Preposterous,  Clown's  blunder 
for  prosperous;  V.  ii.  158. 

Present,  immediate ;  IL  iii.  184. 

Presently,  immediately;  II.  ii, 
47. 

Pretence,     purpose,     intention ; 

III.  ii.  18. 

Prig,  thief;  IV.  iii.  105. 
Profess,  confess,  own ;   IV.  iv. 

544- 
Prof  ess' d,  professed  friendship  ; 

I.  ii.  456. 
Proper,  own ;  II,  iii.  139. 
Pugging,  thievish ;  IV.  iii.  7. 
Purchased,    gained,    came    to ; 

IV.  iii.  27. 


Purgation,  exculpation ;  III.  ii. 

7._ 

Puritan,  a  contemptuous  allu- 
sion to  the  "  Psalm-singing 
Puritans  "  ;  IV.  iii.  45. 

Push,  impulse,  impetus;  V.  iii. 
129. 

Putter-on,  instigator;  II.  i.  141. 

Qualify,  appease,  soften;  IV. 
iv.  537. 

Question,  conversation,  IV.  ii. 
55 ;  "  in  q.,"  under  examina- 
tion, trial,  V.  i.  198. 

Quick,  alive;  IV.  iv.  132. 

Quoifs,  caps,  hoods ;  IV.  iv.  225. 


From  a  figure  on  the  tomb  of  Lady 
Hoby  {tc77ip.  Elizabeth),  in  the 
Church  of  Bisham,  Berks. 

Race,  root ;  IV.  iii.  49. 
Rash,  quick,  sudden;  I.  ii.  319. 
Rear'd,  raised;  I.  ii.  314. 
Reason,  it  is  just;  IV.  iv.  411. 
Regard,  look;  I.  ii.  390. 
Relish,  realize,  perceive ;   II.  i. 
167. 


152 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


Glossary 


Remember^     reminds;     III.     ii. 

231. 
Removed,  retired,  sequestered ; 

V.  ii.  116. 
Removcdncss,    retirement ;    IV. 

ii.  41. 
Repair,  restoration;  V.  i.  31. 
Replenish' d,  perfect;    II.   i.   79. 
Require,    deserve,    II.    iii.    190 ; 

III.  ii.  64. 
Resolve     you,     prepare     your- 
selves,   compose    yourselves ; 

V.  iii.  86. 
Respecting,   considering;    V.   i. 

35. 
Reverend,   "  venerable,   entitled 

to  high  respect  " ;  IV.  iv.  jt,- 
Review,  re-view,  see  again ;  IV. 

iv.  67Z. 
Rheums,   rheumatism;    IV.    iv. 

404. 
Rift,  burst,  split ;  V.  1.  66. 
Ripe,  pressing ;  I.  ii.  332. 
Rosemary,    referred   to   as    the 

symbol  of  remembrance;  IV. 

iv.  74- 
Rounding,    murmuring;     I.    ii. 

217. 
Rue,  referred  to  as  the  herb  of 

grace;  IV.  iv.  74. 

Sad,  serious,  earnest;  IV.  iv. 
311. 

Satfron,  a  spice  used  for  col- 
ouring paste;  IV.  iii.  47. 

Saltiers,  the  servant's  blunder 
for  satyrs ;  IV.  iv.  329. 

Sap,  life,  hope;  IV.  iv.  570. 

Savour,  smell,  scent ;  IV.  iv.  75. 

Scape,  transgression;  III.  iii. 
7^* 


Scaling,  closing,  putting  an 
end  to ;  I.  ii.  2>?>7- 

Sear,  brand;  IT.  i.  y^)' 

Second;  "  be  second  to  me," 
second  my  efforts ;  II.  iii.  27. 

Seeming,  appearance ;  IV.  iv. 
7S- 

Seems,  appears;  IV.  iv.   157. 

Seized,  fallen  on,  overpowered ; 
V.  i.  142. 

Seven-night,  week;   I.  ii.   17. 

Severals,  individuals ;  I.  ii.  226. 

Shall's,  shall  us  {i.e.  shall  we; 
"  shall  "  perhaps  used  imper- 
sonally) ;  I.  ii.  178. 

She,  love,  mistress;  IV.  iv.  354. 

Sheep-iuhistling,  whistling  af- 
ter sheep,  tending  sheep ;  IV. 
iv.  79c. 

Sheets;  "  is  sheets,"  i.e.  is  to 
steal  s. ;   IV.  iii.  23. 

Shore,  put  ashore ;  IV.  iv.  854. 

Should,  would;  I.  ii.  57. 

'Shrezv,  beshrew,  a  mild  form 
of  imprecation ;  I.  ii.  281. 

Sighted,  having  eyes;  I.  ii.  388. 

Silly;  "  s.  cheat,"  harmless 
fraud,  petty  thievery ;  IV.  iii. 
28. 

Since,  when;  V.  i.  219. 

Singular,   unique ;    IV.  iv.    144. 

Singularities,  rarities,  curiosi- 
ties ;  V.  iii.  12. 

Sitting,  interview ;  IV.  iv.  566. 

Skill,  cunning;  II.  i.  166;  rea- 
son, motive  (or  rather  a 
thought  caused  by  considera- 
tion and  judgement)  ;  IV.  iv. 
152. 

Sleeve-hand,  wristband,  cuff; 
IV.  iv.  211. 


153 


Glossary 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


Sneaping,  nipping;  I.  ii.  13. 
Softly,  slowly;  IV.  iii.  118. 
Soaking,  absorbent ;  I.  ii.  224. 
Solely,  alone;  II.  iii.  17. 
Sooth;     "  good     s.,"     in     very 

truth;  IV.  iv.  160. 
So  that,  provided  that ;  II.  i.  9. 
Sped,  prospered,  succeeded;   I. 

ii.  389. 
Speed,  fortune ;  III.  ii.  146. 
Spices,  seasonings;  III.  ii.  185. 
Splitt'st,  cleav'st;  I.  ii.  349. 
Spoke,  spoken;  I.  ii.  106. 
Sprightly,  in  a  sprightly  man- 
ner   (adjective  in-/3;  used  as 

adverb)  ;  IV.  iv.  53. 
Springe,  a  noose  for  catching 

birds;  IV.  iii.  36. 
Square,  the  embroidery  on  the 

bosom  of  a  garment ;  IV.  iv. 

211. 
Squared,  shaped;  V.  i.  52. 
Squash,  an  unripe  peascod;   I. 

ii.  160. 
Squier,    square,    measure ;    IV. 

iv.  343. 
Stand,  fight ;  III.  ii.  46. 
Star;    "  the    watery    star,"    the 

moon;   I.  ii.   i. 
Starr' d,  fated;  III.  ii.  100. 
State,  estate,  rank,  station ;  IV. 

iv.  431. 
Straight,   straightway,   immedi- 
ately; II.  i,  70. 
Strain'd,  turned  from  the  right 

course;  III.  ii.  51. 
Straited,  at  a  loss ;  IV.  iv.  359. 
Strangely,     as     if     it     were     a 

stranger;  II.  iii.  182. 
Stretch  -mouthed,    broad- 

spoken ;  IV.  iv.  196. 


Strong,  forcible;  I.  ii.  34. 

Stuff' d,  complete;  II.  i.  185. 

Subject,  people ;  I,  i.  43. 

Success,  succession;  I.  ii.  394. 

Suddenly,  immediately ;  II.  iii. 
200. 

Sufficiency,  ability;  II.  i.  185. 

Sivear  over,  endeavour  to  over- 
come by  swearing  oaths;  I. 
ii.  424. 

Table-hook,  tablet,  memoran- 
dum book;  IV.  iv.  604.  (C/>. 
illustration  in  Cymbeline.) 

Take,  excite,  move;  III.  ii.  38. 

Take  in,  conquer,  take;  IV.  iv. 
582. 

Tall;  "  t.  fellow  of  thy  hands," 
active,  able-bodied  man  who 
will  bear  the  test;  VI.  ii. 
177. 

Tardied,  retarded;  III.  ii.   163. 

Taiudry-lace,  a  rustic  necklace 
(said  to  be  corrupted  from 
St.  Audrey,  i.e.  St.  Ethel- 
reda,  on  whose  day,  the  17th 
of  October,  a  fair  was  held 
in  the  isle  of  Ely,  where  gay 
toys  of  all  sorts  were  sold)  ; 
IV.  iv.  250. 

Tell,  count;  IV.  iv.  185. 

Tender,  show,  introduce;  IV. 
iv.  812. 

That  =  0  that!  (or,  better,  de- 
pendent on  "  I  am  question'd 
by  my  fears");  "that  .  .  . 
no  "  =  "  lest  " ;  I.  ii.  12. 

,  so  that;  I.  i.  30;  pro- 
vided that,  I.  ii.  84,  85. 

Thereabouts,  of  that  import;  I. 
ii.  378. 


154 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


Glossary 


Thereto,     added     thereto,     be- 
sides; I.  ii.  391. 
Thick,  made  thick,  thicken ;   I. 

ii.  171. 
Thought,    idea,    opinion;    I.    ii. 

424. 
Thought  on,  held  in  estimation  ; 

IV.  iv.  525. 
"  Three    man    song-man,"    i.e. 

"  singers    of   songs    in    three 

parts  "  ;  IV.  iii.  44. 
Three-pile,  the  richest  and  most 

costly  kind  of  velvet ;  IV.  iii. 

14; 

Thriving,     successful ;     II.     ii. 

45. 
Tincture,  colour ;  III.  ii.  206. 
Toase    (Folio   i,   "at  toaze"), 

"probably  to  touse,  i.e.  pull, 

tear  "  ;  IV.  iv.  747. 
Tod,    twenty-eight    pounds    of 

wool ;  IV.  iii.  34. 
Tods,  yields  a  tod ;  IV.  iii.  SS- 
Traffic,  business,  trade;  IV.  iii. 

23. 
Trait  or  ly,  traitrous ;  IV.  iv.  807. 
Transported,  hurried  away  by 

violent  passion;   III.  ii.   159; 

borne  away  by  ecstacy,  V.  iii. 

69. 
Tremor  cordis,  trembling  of  the 

heart;  I.  ii.  no. 
Trick,  toy,  plaything;  II.  i.  51. 
Troll-my-dames,     the      French 

game  of  Trou-madame ;   IV. 

iii.  89.    {Cp.  illustration.) 
Trumpet,  trumpeter,  herald ;  II. 

"•  35- 
Trunk,  body;  I.  ii.  435. 
Tug,  strive,   struggle;   IV.   iv. 

502. 


TroiMuadame. 

From  an  early  collection  of  foreign 

emblems. 

Turtles,    turtle-doves ;    IV.    iv. 

154- 

Unhraided  (?)  =  "  not  coun- 
terfeit, sterling,  but  probably 
the  Clown's  blunder  for  em- 
broidered " ;  IV.  iv.  204. 

Unclasp' d,  revealed ;  III.  ii.  168. 

Uncurrent,  objectionable,  un- 
allowable (like  false  coin)  ; 
III.  ii.  50. 

Undergo,  undertake ;  IV.  iv. 
548. 

Uneasy,  difficult;  IV.  ii.  56. 

Un furnish,  deprive ;  V.  i.  123. 

Unintelligent,  ignorant,  uncon- 
scious; I.  i.  16. 

Unrolled,  struck  off  the  rolls 
(of  thieves)  ;  IV.  iii.  127. 

Unsphere,  remove  from  their 
orbs ;  I.  ii.  48. 

Unthrifty,  not  increasing;  V. 
ii.  120. 

Unvcncrahlc,  contemptible;  II. 
iii.  77. 

Urgent,  pressing;  I.  ii.  465. 

Use ;  "  the  u.  on 't,"  having 
been  used;  III.  i.   14. 

Utter,  "  cause  to  pass  from  one 
to  another  " ;  IV.  iv.  325. 


155 


Glossary 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


Vast  (later  Folios  "  a  vast 
sea"),  a  boundless  sea;  I.  i. 

33- 

Vessel,  creature ;  III.  iii.  21. 

Vice,  screw,  force ;  I.  ii.  416. 

Villain,  a  term  of  endearment ; 
1.  ii.  136. 

Virginalling,  "playing  as  upon 
a  virginal  (a  sort  of  small 
pianoforte  ")  ;  I.  ii.  125. 


From  a  painting  on  glass,  executed  m 
1 601 


Visible,  appearing  visibly;  V.  i. 

216. 
Visitation,  visit;  I.  i.  7;  IV.  iv. 

560. 
Vulgars,   the   common  people; 

II.  i.  94- 

Wafting,    turning    quickly;    I. 

ii.  Z72. 
Waits  upon,  accompanies ;  V.  i. 

142. 
Want,  be  without;  IV.  ii.  15. 
Wanton,  play;  II.  i.  18. 
Ward,    "guard    made    in 

fencing  " ;  I.  ii.  33- 


Warden,  a  baking  pear;  IV. 
iii.  48. 

Wearing,  apparel,  dress ;  IV. 
iv.  9. 

Weeds,  garments;  IV.  iv.  i. 

Welkin,  heavenly,  (?)  blue;  I. 
ii.  136. 

Well,  at  rest;  V.  i.  30. 

What,  whatever ;  I.  ii.  44. 

Which,  that  which;  III.  ii.  61. 

Whistle  off  (Folio  i,  whistle 
of)  ;  perhaps,  derived  from 
falconry ;  "  to  whistle  off  "= 
to  send  off;  IV.  iv.  246. 

Whitsun  pastorals,  Whitsun- 
tide morris-dances ;  IV,  iv. 
134. 


From  a  woodcut  of  the  XVIIth 
century. 

Whoo-bub,  outcry,  clamour; 
IV.  iv.  623. 

"  Whoop,  do  me  no  harm, 
good-man,"  the  name  of  an 
old  song;  IV.  iv.  199.  The 
rest  of  the  words  are  un- 
known, but  several  ballads 
printed  in  the  latter  part  of 
XVIth  century  go  to  this 
tune. 


If.') 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


Glossary 


(Whoop,    do  me    no      harm,    good  man.] 


From  Naylor's  Shakespeare  and  Mtisic. 


Wild,  rash  ;  II.  i.  182. 

Wilful-negligent,  wilfully  neg- 
ligent ;   I.   ii.  255. 

Wink,  the  act  of  closing  the 
eyes ;  I.  ii.  317. 

Winked,  closed  my  eyes ;  III. 
iii.   106. 

Winners,  "precious  w."  win- 
ners of  things  precious  to 
you;  V.  iii.  132. 

Wit,  wisdom ;  II.  ii.  52. 

With,  by;  IV.  iii.  27;  V.  ii. 
68. 

Without-door,  outward,  exter- 
nal ;  II.  i.  69. 

Woman-tired,  hen-pecked;  II. 
iii.  74. 

Wonder,  admiration;  V.  i.  133. 


Wondering,  admiration ;  IV.  i. 
25- 

Worn,  spent ;  "  w.  times,"  spent 
youth  =  old  age ;  V.  i.  142. 

JVorship,  honour,  dignity;  I.  ii. 
314. 

Worth,  worthiness  of  all  kinds, 
here  especially  fortune  and 
rank;  V.  i.  214. 

Wotting,  knowing;   III.  ii.  yy. 

Wrought,  worked  upon,  agi- 
tated; V.  iii.  58. 

Yellow,  the  colour  of  jealousy; 

II.  iii.  106. 

Yest,  spume  or  foam  of  water ; 

III,  iii.  94. 

Yet,  still;  I.  ii.  51. 


IS7 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


Critical  Notes. 

BY  ISRAEL  GOLLANCZ. 

I.  ii.  44.  'What  lady  she  her  lord';  'she'  has  been  variously 
interpreted ;  Collier  and  Dyce  proposed  '  should,'  destroying  the 
beauty  of  the  line ;  Schmidt  makes  the  phrase  '  lady  she  '  ^ '  a 
woman  that  is  a  lady,'  taking  '  she  '  = '  woman ' ;  others  print 
'  lady-she  ' ;  perhaps  the  word  may  be  best  explained  as  the  pleo- 
nastic pronoun  so  common  in  popular  poetry ;  the  rhythm  seems  to 
favour  this  latter  view. 

'  I.  ii.  70.  no,  nor  dream'd/  so  later  Folios;  Folio  i  (retained  by 
Cambridge  Edition),  nor  dream'd;  Spedding,  'neither  dream'd'; 
the  reading  adopted  in  the  text  has  much  to  commend  it. 

I.  ii.  131-2.  'false  As  o'er-dyed  blacks';  Folios  i,  2,  3,  '  o're 
dy'd ' ;  the  words  have  been  variously  interpreted  to  mean  '  fabrics 
dyed  over  with  some  other  colour,'  or  '  dyed  too  much';  Steevens 
saw  in  the  phrase  an  allusion  to  the  fact  that  black  will  receive 
no  other  hue  without  discovering  itself  through  it ;  the  passage 
may  simply  contain  the  idea,  '  the  blacker  the  garb,  the  less  sincere 
the  mourning.' 

I.  ii.  154.  '  methoughts ' ;  so  the  Folios  in  this  and  other  places; 
this  erroneous  form  was  probably  due  to  '  methinks' ;  it  is  note- 
worthy that  the  correct  '  methought'  occurs  a  few  lines  below. 

I.  ii.  284.  '  that,'  i.e.  '  that  of  which  you  accuse  her.' 

II.  i.  II.  'Who  taught  you  this?'  Rowe's  emendation  of  the 
reading  of  Folio  i,  'taught  'this'  (with  an  apostrophe  before 
'this,'  indicating  an  elision)  ;  the  later  Folios,  'taught  this' 

II.  ii.  25.  'A  sad  tale's  best  for  winter';  hence  the  title  of  the 
play. 

II.  i.  39-41.  'There  may  be  in  the  cup  A  spider'  etc.;  it  was 
formerly  believed  that  spiders  were  venomous. 

II.  i.  134.  'I'll  keep  my  stables  where  I  lodge  my  wife';  i.e. 
'  I'll  degrade  my  wife's  chamber  into  a  stable  or  dog  kennel.' 

II.  i.  143.  '/  would  land-damn  him';  so  the  Folios;  '  land- 
danun  '  'laudanum,'  '  lamback'  {i.e.  'beat'),  '  half -damn,'  'live- 
damn,'  '  landan  {lantan,  rantan) ,"'  lant-dam,'  are  among  the  vari- 

158 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


Notes 


ous  emendations  proposed;  Schmidt  suggests  '/  would — Lord, 
damn  him!'  In  all  probability  the  reading  of  the  Folios  should 
not  be  departed  from,  and  it  seems  likely  that  Antigonus,  having 
in  the  previous  phrase  used  the  word  '  damn'd'  here  uses  '  land- 
damn'  as  a  sort  of  grim  quibble  for  '  landan,' — a  Gloucestershire 
word  still  in  use  "  to  express  the  punishment  meted  out  to  slan- 
derers and  adulterers  by  rustics  traversing  from  house  to  house 
along  the  country  side,  blowing  trumpets  and  beating  drums  or 
pans  and  kettles ;  when  an  audience  was  assembled  the  delinquents' 
names  were  proclaimed,  and  they  were  said  to  be  landanned  " 
{cp.  Halli well's  Dictionary  of  Archaic  Words,  and  Notes  and 
Queries,  iii.  464)  :  landau,  lantan,  rantan,  were  variants  of  the 
same  word,  which  was  probably  imitative  in  its  origin. 

II.  i.  153.  'As  you  feel  doing  thus,'  probably  =  my  doing  thus 
to  you  (i.e.  touching  him,  or  perhaps  pulling  his  beard)  ;  '  the 
instruments  that  feel'  =  my  fingers. 

II.  iii.  178.  '  to  its  own  protection,'  so  Folios  i,  2 ;  Folios  3,  4, 
'its' ;  the  old  possessive  form  '  it,'  still  in  use  in  Lancashire,  occurs 
again  in  this  play   (III.  ii.  loi)  ;  there  are 

some  dozen  instances  elsewhere :  '  it  own,' 
may  be  regarded  as  a  sort  of  idiomatic 
compound,  the  combination  helping  to  main- 
tain the  archaism;  'its  (Folio,  it's)  owm' 
to  be  found  in  Act  I.  ii.  266,  is  said  to  be 
the  only  instance  of  its  use  in  Shakespeare. 

III.  ii.  178.  '  boiling  in  leads  or  oils.'  Cp. 
the  accompanying  illustration. 

III.  iii.  123.  '  You  're  a  made  old  man  ' ; 
Theobold's  emendation  of  the  Folio  reading 
'  mad,'  confirmed  by  the  corresponding  pas- 
sage in  Shakespeare's  original : — "  The 
goodman  desired  her  to  be  quiet  ...  if 
she  could  hold  her  peace  they  were  made 
for  ever." 

IV.  i.  15.  'to  it,'  i.e.  'the  present.' 
IV.  ii.  4.  '  It  is  fifteen  years  since,  etc. ;  changed  by  Hanmer 

to  '  sixteen,'  the  number  intended  by  Shakespeare. 

IV.  iii.  23.  '  zvhcn  the  kite  builds,  look  to  lesser  linen ' ;  alluding 
to  this  bird's  habit  of  carrying  off  small  linen  garments  hung  out 
to  dry;  Autolycus  preferred  more  substantial  prey. 

IV.  iii.  53.  '/'   the  name  of  mc ';   probably,   as  has  been 


From    an    illuminated 
MS.  of  XVth  century. 


159 


Notes 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


suggested,  the  Clown's  exclamation  of  '  Mercy '  is  interrupted  by 
Autolycus. 

IV.  iv.  13.  'swoon'  Hanmer's  correction  of  Folios;  'sworn,' 
retained  in  the  Cambridge  edition, 

IV.  iv.  160.  'out';  Theobold's  emendation  for  Folio  i,  '  on't.' 

IV.  iv.  249.  'clamour  your  tongues';  Hanmer's  emendation 
'charm'  has  been  generally  adopted,  but  'clamour'  is  almost 
certainly  correct  (Taylor,  the  Water-Poet,  wrote  'Clamour  the 
promulgation  of  your  tongues')  ;  'clamour'  or  rather  '  clammer,' 
is  probably  radically  identical  with  '  clamber'  the  Scandinavian 
original  of  which,  'klambra'  =:  to  pinch  closely  together,  to 
clamp.' 

IV.  iv.  275.  'another  ballad  of  a  Ush';  cp. 
c.  g.  "  A  strange  report  of  a  monstrous  fish 
that  appeared  in  the  form  of  a  woman  from 
her  waist  upward,  seen  in  the  sea";  entered 
in  the  Stationers'  Register  in  1604. 

IV.  iv.  436.  '  Farre  than  Deucalion  off'; 
'  farre  '=  '  farther  ' ;  the  Folios  all  correctly 
read  ''  farre'  i.e.  the  old  form  of  the  compara- 
tive of  '  far'  unnecessarily  substituted  by  the 
Cambridge  Editors. 

IV.  iv.  586.  '  i'  the  rear  0'  her  birth'; 
Folios  t,  2,  3t,  ''our  birth*;  Rowe  first 
emended  the  line  as  in  the  text,  though  in 
his  second  edition  he  read  '  0'  our '  for  '  o' 
her: 

IV.  iv.  594.  '  appear,'  i.e.  appear  so  (like 
Bohemia's  son). 

IV.  iv.  621.  '/  picked  and  cut  their  festival 
purses.'     {Cp.  the    accompanying    drawing.) 

IV.  iv.  721.  'at  palace';  Folio  i,  'at  'Pal- 
lace  ' ;  probably  the  apostrophe  indicates  "  the 
omission  of  the  article  or  its  absorption  in 
rapid  pronunciation." 

V.  ii.  60.  '  weather-bitten  conduit ' ;  changed 
to  '  weather-beaten  '  in  Folio  3  ;  but  '  zveather- 
bitten '  is  undoubtedly  the  correct  form  (cp. 
Skeat's  Etymological  Dictionary)  :  conduits 
were  frequently  in  the  form  of  human  figures. 

V.  ii.  105.  '  tJiat  rare  Italian  master';  Giulio  Pippi.  known  as 
*  Giulio  Romano,'  was  born  in  1492,  and  died  in  1546;  his  fame 

160 


From  a  tapestry  in  the 
Chateau  d'Effiat.  The 
original  represents  a 
gentleman  and  lady, 
who  are  looking  at 
a  gypsy  encampment. 
While  the  gentleman 
is  directing  the  lady's 
attention  to  the 
group,  one  of  the 
number  cuts  the 
string  which  connects 
the  purse  with  her 
girdle. 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Notes 

as  a  painter  was  widespread ;  Shakespeare,  taking  him  as  '  a  type 
of  artistic  excellence,'  makes  him  a  sculptor ;  it  must,  however, 
be  remembered  that  the  statue  was  a  '  painted  picture.'  Much 
has  been  made  of  this  reference  by  the  advocates  of  Shakespeare's 
alleged  Italian  journeys  {cp.  Elze's  Essays  on  Shakespeare). 


i6i 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


Explanatory  Notes. 

The  Explanatory  Notes  in  this  edition  have  been  specially  selected  and 
adapted,  with  emendations  after  the  latest  and  best  authorities,  from  the 
most  eminent  Shakespearian  scholars  and  commentators,  including  Johnson, 
Malone,  Steevens,  Singer,  Dyce,  Hudson,  White,  Furness,  Dowden,  and 
others.  This  method,  here  introduced  for  the  first  time,  provides  the  best 
annotation  of  Shakespeare  ever  embraced  in  a  single  edition. 


ACT  FIRST. 
Scene  I. 

6.  to  pay  Bohemia: — "Corporal  Trim's  King  of  Bohemia  'de- 
lighted in  navigation,  and  had  never  a  seaport  in  his  dominions,' " 
says  Farmer ;  "  and  my  Lord  Herbert  informs  us  that  De  Luines, 
the  prime  minister  of  France,  when  he  was  ambassador  there,  de- 
manded whether  Bohemia  was  an  inland  country,  or  '  lay  upon  the 
sea.'  There  is  a  similar  mistake  in  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona 
relative  to  that  city  [Verona]  and  Milan." 

Scene  II. 

20.  none,  none : — "  Shakespeare,"  as  Clarke  observes,  "  like  a 
true  poet,  knew  perfectly  the  potent  effect  of  an  iterated  word; 
but,  also  like  a  true  poet  and  writer  of  thorough  judgement,  used 
it  but  sparingly,  and  of  course,  on  that  account,  with  redoubled 
force  of  impression.     Here  it  has  the  effect  of  intense  earnestness.' 

53-  p(^y  your  fees,  etc. : — "  An  allusion,"  according  to  Lord 
Campbell,  "to  a  piece  of  English  law  procedure,  which,  although 
it  may  have  been  enforced  till  very  recently,  could  hardly  be 
known  to  any  except  lawyers,  or  those  who  had  themselves  ac- 
tually been  in  prison  on  a  criminal  charge — that,  whether  guilty 
or  innocent,  the  prisoner  was  liable  to  pay  a  fee  on  his  liberation." 

121.  What,  hast  smutch'd  thy  nose? — Upon  this  Clarke  rema-ks : 
"  It  is  reserved  for  such  a  poet  as  Shakespeare  to  fearlessly  intro- 
duce such  natural  touches  as  a  flying  particle  of  smut  resting  upon 

162 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Notes 

a  child's  nose,  and  to  make  it  turn  to  wonderfully  effective  account 
in  stirring  a  father's  heart,  agitating  it  with  wild  thoughts,  and 
prompting  fierce  plays  upon  words  and  bitter  puns.  Every  phase 
that  passion  takes — writhing  silence,  tortured  utterance,  tearful 
lamentations,  muttered  jests  more  heart-withering  than  cries  or 
complaints — all  are  known  to  Shakespeare,  and  are  found  in  his 
page  as  in  nature's." 

178.  We  are  yours,  etc. : — "  Shakespeare,'*  White  tells  us,  "  had 
the  minute  details  of  the  old  novel  vividly  in  mind  here :  '  When 
Pandosto  was  busied  with  such  urgent  affaires  that  hee  could  not 
bee  present  with  his  friend  Egistus,  Bellaria  would  walke  with  him 
into  the  garden,  where  they  two  in  privat  and  pleasant  devises 
would  passe  away  the  time  to  both  their  contents.' " 

217.  They're  here  with  nie  already: — They  are  already  aware  of 
my  condition;  tJiey  referring  not  to  Polixenes  and  Hermione,  but 
to  people  about  the  court. 

221-227.  That  Leontes'  fanatical  passion  should  stuff  him  with 
the  conceit  of  a  finer  nature,  a  sharper  insight,  and  a  higher  virtue 
than  others  had,  is  shrewdly  natural.  Such  conceit  is  among  the 
commonest  symptoms  of  fanaticism  in  all  its  forms. 

345,  /  am  his  cupbearer: — In  Greene's  tale  Pandosto  contriving 
"  how  he  might  best  put  away  Egistus  without  suspition  of 
treacherous  murder,  hee  concluded  at  last  to  poyson  him ;  .  .  . 
and  the  better  to  bring  the  matter  to  passe  he  called  unto  him  his 
[Egistus's]  cupbearer."  Franion,  the  cupbearer,  endeavours  to 
dissuade  Pandosto  from  his  purpose,  but,  finding  it  in  vain,  "  con- 
sented as  soon  as  opportunity  would  give  him  leave  to  dispatch 
Egistus." 

372.  Wafting  his  eyes,  etc.: — This  is  a  fine  stroke  of  nature. 
Leontes  had  but  a  moment  before  assured  Camillo  that  he  would 
seem  friendly  to  Polixenes,  according  to  his  advice;  but  on  meet- 
ing him,  his  jealousy  gets  the  better  of  his  resolution,  and  he  finds 
it  impossible  to  restrain  his  hatred. 

419.  Be  yoked  with  his,  etc.: — A  clause  in  the  sentence  of  ex- 
communicated persons  was :  "  Let  them  have  part  with  Judas  that 
betrayed  Christ." 

458-460.  Good  expedition,  etc.: — An  obscure  and  difficult  pas- 
sage, whereof  various  conjectural  emendations  have  been  pro- 
posed. Malone's  suggestion  is  :  "  Good  expedition  befriend  me  by 
removing  me  from  a  place  of  danger,  and  comfort  the  innocent 
queen  by  removing  the  object  of  her  husband's  jealousy;  the 
queen,  who  is  the  subject  of  his  conversation,  but  without  reason 

163 


Notes  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

the  object  of  his  suspicion  !  "  Halliwell  understands  it  thus :  "  May 
expedition  be  my  friend  by  removing  me  from  this  scene  of  dan- 
ger, and  at  the  same  time  may  my  absence,  the  object  thus  ac- 
complished, comfort  the  beautiful  queen,  who  is,  indeed,  partly 
the  subject  of,  but  in  no  degree  the  reasonable  object  of,  his 
suspicion." 

465.  Come,  sir  azvay: — Coleridge  has  this  note  on  the  first  Act: 
"  Observe  the  easy  style  of  chit-chat  between  Camillo  and  Archi- 
damus  as  contrasted  with  the  elevated  diction  on  the  introduction 
of  the  kings  and  Hermione  in  the  second  Scene,  and  how  admir- 
ably Polixenes'  obstinate  refusal  to  Leontes  to  stay — 

'  There  is  no  tongue  that  moves ;  none,  none  i'  the  world 
So  soon  as  yours,  could  win  me  ' — 

prepares  for  the  effect  produced  by  his  afterwards  yielding  to 
Hermione ;  which  is,  nevertheless,  perfectly  natural  from  mere 
courtesy  of  sex,  and  the  exhaustion  of  the  will  by  former  efforts 
of  denial,  and  well  calculated  to  set  in  nascent  action  the  jealousy 
of  Leontes.  This,  when  once  excited,  is  unconsciously  increased 
by  Hermione : — 

'  Yet,  good  deed,  Leontes, 

I  love  thee  not  a  jar  o'  the  clock  behind 

What  lady  she  her  lord  ' ; 

accompanied,  as  a  good  actress  ought  to  represent  it,  by  an  ex- 
pression and  recoil  of  apprehension  that  she  had  gone  too  far." 


ACT  SECOND. 
Scene  I. 

90-92.  one  that  knows,  etc.: — One  that  knows  what  she  should 
be  ashamed  to  know  herself,  even  if  the  knowledge  of  it  were 
shared  hut  with  her  paramour. 

104,  105.  He  zvho  .  .  .  speaks: — He  who  shall  speak  for  her 
is  remotely  guilty  in  merely  speaking. 

119-124.  zi'hen  you  shall  know,  etc.: — "li  it  be  desired  to  know 
the  full  difference  between  noble  pride  and  false  pride,  here  is 
shown  the  former  in  perfection,"  says  Clarke.  "  No  one  better 
than  Shakespeare  knew  the  true  distinction  between  them ;  the 
right  time  for  and  due  amount  of  self-assertion,  the  simplicity  and 

164 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Notes 

severity  o£  moral  dignity :  and  in  none  of  his  characters  are  these 
points  more  notably  developed  than  in  Hermione.  Her  few  fare- 
well words  to  her  mistaken  husband  in  this  speech  combine  in  a 
wonderful  way  the  essence  of  wifely  tenderness  with  the  utmost 
wifely  self-respect." 

191.  Give  rest,  etc. : — This  is  in  admirable  keeping  with  the  pas- 
sion that  engrosses  Leontes :  he  will  not  suffer  the  truth  of  the 
charge  to  stand  in  issue.  Accordingly  he  rejects  the  answer  as 
soon  as  he  finds  it  clashing  with  his  opinion ;  if  the  god  confirm 
what  he  already  thinks,  then  his  authority  is  unquestionable;  if 
not,  then  he  is  no  god. 

Scene  III. 

20.  in  himself  too  mighty,  etc.: — Greene's  novel  has:  "  Pan- 
dosto,  although  he  felt  that  revenge  was  a  spur  to  warre,  and  that 
envy  always  proffereth  Steele,  yet  he  saw  Egisthus  was  not  only  of 
great  puissance  and  prowesse  to  withstand  him,  but  also  had  many 
kings  of  his  alliance  to  ayd  him,  if  need  should  serve;  for  he  mar- 
ried the  Emperor  of  Russia's  daughter." 


ACT  THIRD. 
Scene  I. 

14.  The  time  is  worth  the  use  on  't : — That  is,  the  event  of  our 
journey  will  recompense  us  for  the  time  we  spent  in  it.  Thus  in 
Florio's  Montaigne,  1603 :  "  The  common  saying  is,  the  time  we 
live  is  worth  the  money  we  pay  for  it." 

Scene  II. 

29-33.  if  powers  divine,  etc. : — Thus  Greene's  novel :  "  If  the 
divine  powers  be  privie  to  human  actions  (as  no  doubt  they  are) 
I  hope  my  patience  shall  make  fortune  blush,  and  my  unspotted 
life  shall  stayne  spiteful  discredit." 

86.  Those  of  your  fact  are  so: — That  is,  those  who  have  done 
as  you  have  done.  Shakespeare  had  this  from  Greene :  "  It  was 
her  part  to  deny  such  a  monstrous  crime,  and  to  be  impudent  in 

165 


Notes  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

forswearing  the  fact,  since  she  had  passed  all  shame  in  commit- 
ting the  fault." 

107.  strength  of  limit: — That  is,  according  to  Mason,  "the 
limited  degree  of  strength  which  it  is  customary  for  women  to  ac- 
quire before  they  are  suffered  to  go  abroad  after  child-bearing." 
Hudson  (Harvard  ed.)  suggests  that  the  meaning  may  be,  "  before 
I  have  got  strength  by  seclusion,"  regarding  of  as  merely  equiva- 
lent to  hy. 

133-137-  Hermione  is  chaste: — In  Greene's  novel  the  response  of 
the  Oracle  runs  thus:  "  Suspition  is  no  proofe ;  jealousie  is  an 
unequall  judge;  Bellaria  is  chast ;  Egistus  blamelesse ;  Franion  a 
true  subject;  Pandosto  treacherous;  his  babe  an  innocent;  the 
king  shall  die  without  an  heire,  if  that  which  is  lost  be  not 
founde."  Coleridge  remarks  :  "  Although,  on  the  whole,  this  play 
is  exquisitely  respondent  to  its  title,  and  even  in  the  fault  I  am 
about  to  mention  still  a  winter's  tale;  yet  it  seems  a  mere  indo- 
lence of  the  great  bard  not  to  have  provided  in  the  oracular  re- 
sponse some  ground  for  Hermione's  seeming  death  and  fifteen 
years'  voluntary  concealment.  This  might  have  been  easily  ef- 
fected by  some  obscure  sentence  of  the  oracle;  as,  for  example: 
'  Nor  shall  he  ever  recover  an  heir,  if  he  have  a  wife  before  that 
recovery.'  " 

148.  {Hermione  faints.]  "  This  mute  succumbence  to  the  blow 
dealt  her  in  the  sudden  death  of  her  little  son  is,"  says  Clarke,  "  not 
only  finely  tragic,  but  profoundly  true  to  the  character  of  Her- 
mione. She  is  not  a  woman  '  prone  to  weeping,'  not  one  who  can 
so  ease  her  heart  of  that  which  '  burns  worse  than  tears  drown ' ; 
she  can  command  her  voice  to  utter  that  dignified  defence  of  her 
honour,  and  bear  the  revulsion  of  thanksgiving  at  the  divine  in- 
tervention in  her  behalf  with  the  single  ejaculation  of  '  Praised!  ' 
but  at  the  abrupt  announcement  of  her  boy's  death  she  drops, 
without  a  word,  stricken  to  the  earth  by  the  weight  of  her  tear- 
less woe." 

173.  Does  my  deeds,  etc. : — "  This  vehement  retraction  of  Leon- 
tes,  accompanied  with  the  confession  of  more  crimes  than  he  was 
suspected  of,  is,"  in  Johnson's  opinion,  "  agreeable  to  our  daily  ex- 
perience of  the  vicissitudes  of  violent  tempers,  and  the  eruptions 
of  minds  oppressed  with  guilt." 

193,  194.  though  a  devil,  etc. : — Though  a  devil  would  have  shed 
tears  of  pity  from  out  the  flames,  ere  he  would  have  perpetrated 
such  an  action. 

166 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Notes 

Scene  III. 

I.  perfect : — In  the  sense  of  sure  or  certain,  Shakespeare  often 
has  perfect.    So  in  Cymhclinc,  III.  i.  73-75 : — 

"  I  am  perfect 
That  the  Pannonians  and  Dalmatians  for 
Their  liberties  are  now  in  arms." 

55.  lullaby  : — This  occurs  in  Greene's  novel :  "  Shalt  thou  have 
the  whistling  windes  for  thy  luUabie,  and  the  salt  sea  fome  in- 
stede  of  sweete  milke?  " 

ACT  FOURTH. 
Scene  I. 

[Time.]  "There  could  hardly  be  greater  diflference  in  style 
than  that  between  Time's  speech  as  Chorus  and  the  rest  of  the 
verse  in  this  play,"  says  White.  "  The  former  is  direct,  simple, 
composed  of  the  commonest  words  used  in  their  commonest  sig- 
nification, but  bald  and  tame,  and  in  its  versification  very  con- 
strained and  ungraceful :  the  latter  is  involved,  parenthetical,  hav- 
ing a  vocabulary  of  its  own,  but  rich  in  beauties  of  thought  and 
expression,  and  entirely  untrammelled  by  the  form  in  which  it  is 
written.  The  Chorus  I  believe  not  to  have  been  written  by  Shake- 
spare.  It  bears  no  resemblance  to  his  work  at  any  period  of  his 
life.  A  comparison  of  this  Chorus  with  the  Epilogue  to  The 
Tempest,  and  the  Prologue  to  Henry  VIII.,  will,  I  think,  convince 
any  one  with  an  ear  that  they  are  from  the  same  pen,  and  that  not 
Shakespeare's.  He  probably  saw,  after  putting  the  story  into  dra- 
matic form,  that  for  an  audience  an  explanation  was  needed  to 
bridge  over  the  space  between  the  two  acts,  and  committed  the  un- 
grateful task  to  willing  hands.  It  has  been  supposed  by  previous 
editors,  and  not  without  reason,  that  the  Prologue  to  Henry  VIII. 
was  written  by  Ben  Jonson.  But  from  the  remarkable  use  in  that 
composition  of  the  uncouth  and  disjointed  rhythm  produced  by  the 
continued  enjamhement  de  vers,  which  is  noticeable  also  in  the 
Epilogue  to  The  Tempest,  and  in  a  still  greater  degree  in  this 
Chorus,  I  more  than  suspect  that  they  were  all  written  by  Chap- 
man. See  Chapman's  poetical  address  To  the  Reader  which  pre- 
cedes his  translation  of  Homer;  and  also  that  translation." 

167 


Notes  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Scene  III. 

23-31.  My  traffic,  etc.: — Upon  this  passage  Coleridge  remarks: 
"  Fine  as  this  is,  and  delicately  characteristic  of  one  who  had  lived 
and  been  reared  in  the  best  society,  and  had  been  precipitated 
from  it  by  dice  and  drabbing;  yet  still  it  strikes  against  my  feelings 
as  a  note  out  of  tune,  and  as  not  coalescing  with  that  pastoral  tint 
which  gives  such  a  charm  to  this  Act.  It  is  too  Macbeth-like  in 
the  '  snapper-up  of  unconsidered  trifles.'  " 

SS.  every  'lev en  wether  tods: — Every  eleven  sheep  will  produce 
a  tod  or  twenty-eight  pounds  of  wool.  The  price  of  a  tod  of  wool 
was  about  20s.  or  22s.  in  1581. 

Scene  IV. 

6.  extremes: — His  extravagance  in  disguising  himself  in  shep- 
herd's clothes,  while  he  pranked  her  up  most  goddess-like. 

22.  Vilely  bound  up  : — Johnson  thinks  it  "  impossible  for  any 
man  to  rid  his  mind  of  his  profession.  The  authorship  of  Shake- 
speare has  supplied  him  with  a  metaphor,  which,  rather  than  he 
would  lose  it,  he  has  put  with  no  great  propriety  into  the  mouth 
of  a  country  maid.  Thinking  of  his  own  works,  his  mind  passed 
naturally  to  the  binder." 

74-76.  rosemary  and  rue,  etc.: — See  Hamlet,  IV.  v.  175  and  180- 
182,  where  Ophelia  says,  "  There  's  rosemary,  that 's  for  remem- 
brance :  .  .  .  there  's  rue  for  you :  ...  we  may  call  it  herb  of 
grace."  These  plants  were  probably  held  as  emblematic  of  grace 
and  remembrance,  because  they  keep  their  beauty  and  fragrance 
"  all  the  winter  long." 

86-88.  /  have  heard  it  said,  etc. : — It  would  seem  that  variegated 
gillyflowers  were  produced  by  crossbreeding  of  two  or  more  vari- 
eties ;  as  variegated  ears  of  corn  often  grow  from  several  sorts  of 
corn  being  planted  together.  The  gardener's  art  whereby  this  was 
done  might  properly  be  said  to  share  with  creating  nature.  Douce 
says  that  such  flowers  being  artificially  produced,  "  Perdita  con- 
siders them  a  proper  emblem  of  a  painted  or  immodest  woman; 
and  therefore  declines  to  meddle  with  them.  She  connects  the 
gardener's  art  of  varying  the  colours  of  these  flowers  with  the  art 
of  painting  the  face,  a  fashion  very  prevalent  in  Shakespeare's 
time." 

97,  The  art  itself  is  nature: — This  Identity  of  nature  and  art  Is 
thus  affirmed  by  Bacon :    "  We  are  the  rather  induced  to  assign  the 

168 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Notes 

History  of  Arts  as  a  branch  of  Natural  History,  because  an 
opinion  hath  long  time  gone  current,  as  if  art  were  some  different 
thing  from  nature,  and  artificial  from  natural."  Likewise  Sir 
Thomas  Browne :  "  Nature  is  not  at  variance  with  art,  nor  art 
with  nature ;  they  both  being  the  servants  of  the  Providence  of 
God.  Art  is  the  perfection  of  nature :  were  the  world  now  as  it 
was  the  sixth  day,  there  were  yet  a  chaos.  Nature  hath  made  one 
world,  and  art  another.  In  brief,  all  things  are  artificial ;  for 
nature  is  the  art  of  God." 

99,100.  I'll  not  put,  etc.: — Perdita  is  too  guileless  to  under- 
stand fully  the  reasoning  of  Polixenes ;  she  therefore  assents  to 
it,  yet  goes  on  to  act  as  though  there  were  nothmg  in  it :  her  as- 
sent, indeed,  is  merely  to  get  rid  of  the  perplexity  it  causes  her ; 
for  it  clashes  with  and  disturbs  her  moral  feelings  and  associa- 
tions. Mrs.  Jameson  says,  "  She  gives  up  the  argument,  but, 
woman-like,  retains  her  own  opinion,  or  rather  her  sense  of  right." 

105.  marigold : — There  is  a  difference  of  opinion  among  thfe 
commentators  as  to  whether  this  means  the  sunflower  or  not. 
Some  think  the  garden  marigold  is  referred  to,  concerning  which 
Ellacombe  remarks  that  it  "  was  always  a  great  favourite  in  our 
forefathers'  gardens,  and  it  is  hard  to  give  any  reason  why  it 
should  not  be  so  in  ours.  Yet  it  has  been  almost  completely  ban- 
ished, but  may  often  be  found  in  the  gardens  of  cottages  and  old 
farm-houses,  where  it  is  still  prized  for  its  bright  and  almost  ever- 
lasting flowers  (looking  very  like  a  Gazanid)  and  evergreen  tuft 
of  leaves,  while  the  careful  housewife  still  picks  and  carefully 
stores  the  petals  of  the  flowers,  and  uses  them  in  broths  and 
soups,  believing  them  to  be  of  great  efficacy,  as  Gerarde  said  they 
were,  '  to  strengthen  and  comfort  the  heart.'  The  two  properties 
of  the  marigold — that  it  was  always  in  flower,  and  that  it  turned 
its  flowers  to  the  sun  and  followed  his  guidance  in  their  opening 
and  shutting — made  it  a  very  favourite  flower  with  the  poets  and 
emblem  writers."  Contemporary  allusions  to  the  flower  are  fre- 
quent.    Wither  has  the  following : — 

"  When  with  a  serious  musing  I  behold 
The  grateful  and  obsequious  Marigold, 
How  duly  every  morning  she  displays 
Her  open  breast  when  Phoebus  spreads  his  rays; 
How  she  observes  him  in  his  daily  walk. 
Still  bending  towards  him  her  small,  slender  stalk; 
How  when  he  down  declines  she  droops  and  mourns, 

169 


Notes  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

Bedewed,  as  't  were,  with  tears  till  he  returns; 
And  how  she  veils  her  flowers  when  he  is  gone: 
When  this  I  meditate,  methinks  the  flowers 
Have  spirits  far  more  generous  than  ours, 
And  give  us  fair  examples  to  despise 
The  servile  fawnings  and  idolatries 
Wherewith  we  court  these  earthly  things  below. 
Which  merit  not  the  service  we  bestow." 

ii8.  Dis's  waggon!  daffodils: — Xhe  story  how,  at  the  coming 
of  Dis  in  his  chariot,  Proserpine,  affrighted,  let  fall  from  her  lap 
the  flowers  which  she  had  gathered,  is  told  in  the  fifth  book  of 
Ovid's  Metamorphoses.  Of  course,  from  Dis's  waggon  means  at 
the  approach  of  Dis's  waggon.  Coleridge  says,  "An  epithet  is 
wanted  here  [before  daffodils],  not  merely  or  chiefly  for  the  metre, 
but  for  the  balance,  for  the  aesthetic  logic.  Perhaps  golden  was  the 
word  which  would  set  off  the  violets  dim." 

121,  122.  lids  of  Juno's  eyes  or  Cytherea's  breath : — The  beauties 
of  Greece  and  some  Asiatic  nations  tinged  their  eyelids  of  an  ob- 
scure violet  colour  by  means  of  some  unguent,  which  was  doubt- 
less perfumed  like  those  for  the  hair,  etc.,  mentioned  by  Athenaeus. 
Hence  Hesiod,  in  a  passage  which  has  been  rendered 

"Pier  flowing  hair  and  sable  eyelids 
Breathed  enamouring  odour,  like  the  breath 
Of  balmy  Venus." 

Shakespeare  may  not  have  known  this,  yet  of  the  beauty  and  pro- 
priety of  the  epithet  violets  dim,  and  the  transition  at  once  to  the 
lids  of  Juno's  eyes  and  Cytherea's  breath,  no  reader  of  taste  and 
feeling  need  be  reminded. 

i6o.  makes  her  blood  look  out: — This  recalls  beautiful  lines  in 
Donne's  Elegy  on  Airs.  Elizabeth  Drury : — 

"  We  understood 
Her  by  her  sight ;  her  pure  and  eloquent  blood 
Spoke  in  her  cheeks,  and  so  distinctly  wrought. 
That  one  might  almost  say,  her  body  thought.'' 

227.  poking-stieks : — These  poking-sticks  are  described  by 
Stubbes  in  his  Anatomie  of  Abuses,  Part  ii. :  "  They  be  made  of 
yron  and  Steele,  and  some  of  brasse,  kept  as  bright  as  silver,  yea, 
some  of  silver  itselfe ;  and  it  is  well  if  in  processe  of  time,  they 
grow  not  to  be  of  gold.  The  fashion  whereafter  they  be  made,  I 
cannot  resemble  to  anything  so   well  as  to  a  squirt  or  a  little 

170 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Notes 

squibbe,  which  little  children  used  to  squirt  Avater  out  withal ;  and 
when  they  come  to  starching  or  setting  of  their  ruffes,  then  must 
this  instrument  be  heated  in  the  fire,  the  better  to  stiffen  the  ruff." 
Stowe  informs  us  that  "  about  the  sixteenth  yeare  of  the  queenc 
began  the  making  of  Steele  poking-sticks,  and  until  that  time  all 
lawndresses  used  setting  stickes  made  of  wood  or  bone."  They 
were  heated  and  used  for  setting  the  plaits  of  ruffs. 

281.  ballad: — All  extraordinary  events  were  then  turned  into 
ballads.  In  1604  was  entered  on  the  Stationers'  books,  "  A  strange 
report  of  a  monstrous  fish  that  appeared  in  the  form  of  a  woman 
from  her  waist  upward." 

328.  men  of  hair:— It  is  most  probable  that  they  were  dressed  in 
goatskins.  A  dance  of  satyrs  was  no  unusual  entertainment  in 
Shakespeare's  time,  or  even  at  an  earlier  period.  A  disguising  or 
mummery  of  this  kind,  which  had  like  to  have  proved  fatal  to 
some  of  the  actors  in  it,  whose  hairy  dresses  took  fire,  is  related  by 
Froissart  as  occurring  at  the  court  of  France  in  1392.  Bacon, 
Essay  37,  says  of  antimasques,  "They  have  been  commonly  of 
fools,  satyrs,  baboons,  wild  men,  antics,  beasts,  sprites,  witches, 
Ethiopes,  pigmies,  turquets,  nymphs,  rustics,  Cupids,  statues  mov- 
ing, and  the  like." 

348.  you'll  knoiv  more,  etc. :— This  is  in  answer  to  something 
which  the  Shepherd  is  supposed  to  have  said  to  Polixenes  during 
the  dance. 

446-455.  Even  here  .  .  .  iveep :— Coleridge  says,  "  O,  how 
more  than  exquisite  is  this  whole  speech !  And  that  profound  na- 
ture of  noble  pride  and  grief  venting  themselves  in  a  momentary 
peevishness  of  resentment  towards  Florizel :  '  Wilt  please  you,  sir, 
be  gone?'"  "For  my  part,"  adds  Hudson.  "I  should  say,  how 
more  than  exquisite  is  everything  about  this  unfledged  angel !  " 

449-451.  The  selfsame  sun  .  .  .  alike:— Sir  John  Davies  in 
his  Nosce  Teipsum,  i599»  has  a  similar  thought  :— 

"  Thou  like  the  sunne  dost  with  indifferent  ray 
Into  the  palace  and  the  cottage  shine." 

And  Habington  in  his  Queen  of  Arragon  has  imitated  it  thus  :— 
"  The  stars  shoot 
An  equal  influence  on  the  open  cottage. 
Where  the  poor  shepherd's  child  is  rudely  nursed, 
And  on  the  cradle  where  the  prince  is  rock'd 
With  care  and  whisper." 


Notes  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

463.  no  priest  shovels  in  dust: — Before  the  change  in  the  old 
burial  service,  it  was  the  custom  for  the  priest  to  throw  earth  on 
the  body  in  the  form  of  a  cross,  and  then  sprinkle  it  with  holy 
water, 

466,  467.  //  /  might  die,  etc.: — Some  of  the  critics  have  been 
rather  hard  on  the  old  Shepherd,  for  what  they  call  his  charac- 
teristic selfishness  in  thinking  so  much  of  his  own  life,  though 
he  be  fourscore  and  three,  and  showing  so  little  concern  for 
Perdita  and  Florizel.  But  it  is  the  thought,  not  so  much  of  dy- 
ing, as  of  dying  like  a  felon,  that  troubles  and  engrosses  his 
mind.  His  unselfish  honesty  in  the  treatment  of  his  precious 
foundling  is  quite  apparent  throughout.  The  Poet  was  wiser 
than  to  tempt  nature  overmuch  by  making  the  innate  qualities 
of  his  heroine  triumphant  over  the  influences. of  a  selfish  father. 

589.  My  prettiest  Perdita! — "The  delineation  of  the  love  be- 
tween Florizel  and  Perdita,"  says  Brandes,  "is  marked  by  certain 
features  not  to  be  found  in  Shakespeare's  youthful  works,  but 
which  reappear  with  Ferdinand  and  Miranda  in  The  Tempest. 
There  is  a  certain  remoteness  from  the  world  about  it,  a  ten- 
derness for  those  who  are  still  yearning  and  hoping  for  happi- 
ness and  a  renunciation  of  any  expectation  as  far  as  himself  is 
concerned.  He  stands  outside  and  beyond  it  all  now.  In  the  old 
days  the  Poet  stood  on  a  level,  as  it  were,  with^the  love  he  was 
portraying ;  now  he  looks  upon  it  from  above  with  a  fatherly  eye." 
835,  836.  'tis  none  of  your  daughter  nor  my  sister: — The  un- 
hesitating selfishness  of  the  old  man  and  his  son  at  the  approach  of 
danger,  though  otherwise  they  are  creditable  rustics  enough,  the 
singleness  of  their  anxiety  to  save  their  own  skins  from  royal 
vengeance,  by  proving  the  foundling  none  of  their  blood,  without 
any  thought  of  her  fate  and  fortune,  belongs  to  the  revulsions  that 
characterize  the  play;  it  also  finally  detaches  her,  in  our  associa- 
tions, from  the  class  she  has  been  reared  amongst,  and  thus  she 
is  acquitted  of  ingratitude  as  well  as  presumption  in  moving  easily 
towards  the  superior  rank  due  to  her  nature  as  to  her  descent. 
Her  own  courage  and  collectedness  at  once  place  her  in  contrast 
to  the  bewildered  and  frightened  hinds,  and  bring  her  worthily 
into  sympathy  with  the  patience  and  self-support  of  her  brave 
mother  Hermione. 


172 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Notes 

ACT  FIFTH. 

Scene  II. 

I.  et  seq.  "  The  finely  written  prose  scene  of  the  conversing 
gentlemen,"  says  Lloyd,  "  smooths  the  transition  to  the  conclu- 
ding scene  by  presenting  the  agitating  incidents  of  the  recogni- 
tion of  Perdita  in  narrative  form,  and  this  is  also  a  conces- 
sion to  the  superior  dignity  and  interest  of  the  revelation  of 
Hermione.  Here  all  spirits  are  attempered  to  modesty  and  recon- 
ciliation ;  the  weak  are  strengthened,  the  vehement  subdued,  the 
wise  contented ;  and  although  a  change  more  startling  than  any 
in  the  play  is  to  take  place — the  revival  of  the  very  dead — the 
moving  and  speaking  of  a  statue,  yet  so  easily  is  all  conducted, 
with  such  orderly  and  tender  sequence  does  the  discovery  take 
place,  in  such  tranquillized  purity  of  mind  is  all  set  forth  and 
received,  that  the  full  discovery  takes  place  at  last  rather  with 
motion  than  speech,  is  acknowledged  with  embraces  rather  than 
words,  is  for  contemplation  rather  than  discourse." 

io6.  eternity: — It  would  appear  that  a  painted  statue  was  no 
singularity  in  that  age ;  Ben  Jonson,  in  his  Magnetic  Lady,  makes 
it  a  reflection  on  the  bad  taste  of  the  city. 
Rut.  I'd  have  her  statue  cut  now  in  white  marble. 
Sir  Moth.  And  have  it  painted  in  most  orient  colours. 
Rut.  That's  right !  all  city  statues  must  be  painted. 

Else  they  be  worth  nought  in  their  subtle  judgements. 
Sir  Henry  Wotton,  who  had  travelled  much,  calls  it  an  English 
barbarism.  The  arts  of  sculpture  and  painting  were  certainly 
with  us  in  a  barbarous  state  compared  with  the  progress  which 
they  had  made  elsewhere.  But  painted  statues  were  known  to 
the  Greeks,  as  appears  from  the  accounts  of  Pausanias  and  He- 
rodotus. 

Scene  III. 

62.  already : — The  passion  of  Leontes  causes  him  to  break 

off  in  the  midst  of  his  sentence  ;  or  rather,  from  his  very  intentness 
of  thought,  to  leave  it  unspoken.  Perhaps  it  was  in  his  mind  to 
say,  "  Would  I  were  dead,  but  that,  methinks,  already  I  am  with 
my  queen,  and  need  not  pass  through  death  to  have  her  society." 

68.  mock'd  with  art : — Here  we  have  indeed  a  wonder  of  dra- 
matic or  representative  skill.     The  illusion  is  all  on  the  understand- 

173 


Notes  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

ings,  not  on  the  feelings  of  the  spectators:  they  think  it  to  be 
a  statue,  yet  feel  as  if  it  were  the  li\ing  original;  seem  to  discern 
the  power  without  the  fact  of  motion ;  have  a  sense  of  mobility  in 
a  vision  of  fixedness.  And  the  effect  spreads  through  them  into 
us;  insomuch  that  we  almost  fancy  them  turning  into  marble,  as 
they  fancy  the  marble  turning  into  flesh. 


i74 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE 


Questions  on 
The  Winter  s  Tale. 


1.  Where  in  the  order  of  the  Poet's  works  does  this  play  be- 
long? 

2.  What  textual  and  constructive  characteristics  help  to  deter- 
mine the  date? 

3.  State  some  differences  between  the  play  and  Greene's  novel 
upon  which  the  play  is  based.  What  characters  are  invented  by 
Shakespeare? 

4.  From  what  Greek  play  is  the  recognition  scene  in  the  last 
Act  probably  taken? 

5.  Show  how  this  play  is  extreme  in  its  defiance  of  the  dramatic 
unities. 

ACT  FIRST. 

6.  In  what  sense  is  Sc.  i.  of  the  character  of  prologue?  Indi- 
cate the  ironic  qualities  of  the  Scene. 

7.  Contrast  the  tempers  of  the  two  kings  at  the  parting  inter- 
view (Sc.  ii.).     Of  what  does  Hermione  accuse  Leontes? 

8.  Where  and  how  is  Florizel  first  mentioned? 

9.  What  first  indication  do  you  see  of  the  jealousy  of  Leontes? 
ID.  Characterize  the  manner  of  Hermione  as  gathered  from  her 

words.     How  does  Leontes  describe  her  in  line  108  et  seq.  ?     How 
much  is  exaggeration  due  to  his  distemper? 

11.  What  effect  is  produced  by  Leontes's  bantering  words  with 
Mamillius? 

12.  Is  it  likely  that  Leontes's  jealousy  has  been  long  maturing? 
Can  you  derive  any  evidence  from  the  play  in  proof  of  the  view? 

13.  What  is  foreshadowed  concerning  Camillo  in  the  words  (ii. 
235-241)  which  Leontes  addresses  to  him? 

14.  Explain  the  reactionary  effect  in  the  mind  of  the  spectator 
that  proves  the  innocence  of  Hermione. 

15.  What  state  of  morality  of  courts  is  indicated  by  the  discus- 

175 


Questions  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

sion  of  Leontes  and   Camillo  on  poisoning?     What  compact  is 
made  between  them? 

i6.  Why  does  Camillo  break  faith  with  the  king  and  disclose 
his  purposes  to  Polixenes? 

17.  Indicate  the  causes  of  the  subsequent  action  not  laid  down  in 
the  first  Act. 

ACT  SECOND. 

18.  Describe  the  domestic  scene  at  the  opening  of  the  Act. 
What  is  the  dramatic  effect  of  the  irruption  of  Leontes  and  his 
train? 

19.  Does  the  flight  of  Camillo  furnish  dramatic  probability  to 
the  position  of  Leontes? 

20.  Describe  the  bearing  of  Hermione  under  the  charges  of 
Leontes.     How  does  she  foreshadow  the  reconciliation? 

21.  How  is  the  queen's  justification,  from  the  point  of  view  of 
the  spectator,  made  to  follow  immediately  upon  the  accusation? 
How  is  humour  added  by  Antigonus  as  a  mitigation  of  the  impres- 
sion caused  by  the  king's  harshness? 

22.  As  an  episode,  what  is  the  nature  of  Sc.  ii.  ?  Of  what  tem- 
per does  Paulina  show  herself  to  be? 

23.  Comment  on  the  inharmony  of  her  purposes  in  that  she 
plans  to  assault  Leontes  with  her  tongue,  and  at  the  same  time 
meditates  upon  the  softening  effect  wrought  by  the  sight  of  his 
new-born  child. 

24.  Had  Hermione  meditated  any  further  means  of  justifying 
herself? 

25.  Show  how  differently  Othello  and  Leontes  are  affected  by 
the  supposed  fact  of  unfaithfulness  in  their  wives. 

26.  What  picture  is  given  of  the  effect  of  Leontes's  act  on 
Mamillius? 

27.  Why  was  the  moment  chosen  by  Paulina  to  show  the  child 
and  plead  Hermione's  case  particularly  unfortunate? 

28.  Does  one  feel  that  the  opportunity  for  reconciliation  was 
spoiled  by  human  bungling  or  by  will  of  the  gods? 

29.  What  are  some  of  the  arguments  employed  by  Paulina? 

30.  What  disposition  is  made  of  the  child?  Upon  whom  is  laid 
the  task  of  carrjnng  out  the  king's  command? 

31.  Can  you  discover  any  thing  in  Antigonus  upon  which  poetic 
justice  may  base  her  claim  to  the  fate  reserved  for  him? 

32.  How  is  the  transition  from  the  second  to  the  third  Act  ef- 
fected ? 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Questions 

ACT   THIRD. 

S3.  Does  Sc.  i.  contribute  to  the  action?  What  is  its  purpose? 
Would  the  play  suffer  without  it? 

34.  In  the  scene  of  the  trial,  what  does  Hermione  say  in  her 
own  defence?     What  traits  of  her  nature  does  she  exhibit? 

35.  What  effect  is  produced  by  Hermione's  cry  for  human  sym- 
pathy in  line  120  of  Sc.  ii.  ?  Considering  that  she  had  the  sym- 
pathy of  all  save  the  king,  how  is  her  spiritual  solitariness  here 
indicated?  Does  this  speech  contradict  Mrs.  Jameson's  assertion 
that  Hermione  displays  "  dignity  without  pride  "  ? 

36.  What  dramatic  necessity  is  there  that  the  entrance  of 
Cleomenes  and  Dion  be  previously  prepared?  Is  there  in  this 
felt  a  justification  of  Sc.  i.  ? 

37.  Does  not  the  use  of  the  oracle  as  the  most  dramatic  symbol 
of  retributive  justice  that  the  religious  consciousness  of  man  has 
furnished  in  history  outweigh  the  consideration  of  its  anachro- 
nism and  hence  justify  itself? 

38.  How  is  the  impiety  of  Leontes  immediately  punished? 

39.  Is  the  sudden  and  wholesale  penitence  of  Leontes  psycho- 
logically possible? 

40.  What  is  the  purpose  of  Paulina's  arraignment  of  the  king 
at  the  time  that  she  reports  the  death  of  the  queen?  Is  there  a 
feeling  that  the  ends  of  justice  are  served,  although  the  effect  of 
her  scolding  tongue  is  unpleasant? 

41.  What  was  the  cause  of  the  death  of  Mamillius?  Compare 
the  art  of  Shakespeare  in  thus  securing  an  effect  of  pathos  with 
that  of  Dickens,  let  us  say,  in  the  death  of  such  children  as  Little 
Nell  or  Paul  Dombey. 

42.  Does  the  spectator  think  that  Paulina  believes  Hermione  to 
be  dead? 

43.  What  art  is  employed  at  the  beginning  of  Sc.  iii.  to  make  up 
for  the  undramatic  character  of  the  casting  away  of  the  child? 

44.  How  is  Perdita  named? 

45.  What  effect  through  contrast  is  secured  by  the  Shepherd's 
opening  speech? 

46.  How  does  one  hear  of  the  fate  of  Antigonus  and  of  the  ship 
that  brought  Perdita  to  the  island? 

47.  Why  are  these  disasters  not  presented  with  an  accompanying 
effect  of  pathos? 

48.  Show  how  this  dramatic  viotif  is  made  to  serve  also  as  a 
means  of  exhibiting  the  qualities  at  the  base  of  rustic  natures. 

177 


Questions  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

ACT  FOURTH. 

49.  How  does  Time  as  Chorus  speak  of  the  constructive  diver- 
gences of  this  play?  How  does  he  effect  transition  of  attention  to 
a  different  group  of  characters? 

50.  What  is  Camillo's  desire  as  revealed  at  the  opening  of  Sc. 
ii.  ?    What  is  here  revealed  as  the  state  of  affairs  at  Sicilia? 

51.  How  is  Camillo's  return  postponed?  How  does  Autolycus 
introduce  himself? 

52.  What  variant  of  a  familiar  Shakespearian  situation  do  you 
see  in  the  scene  between  Autolycus  and  the  Clown? 

53.  Where  is  Polixenes's  displeasure  with  Florizel  foreshad- 
owed? What  is  the  dramatic  effect  of  the  apprehensiveness  of 
Perdita? 

54.  How  does  Shakespeare  show  the  innate  superiority  of  Per- 
dita to  her  surroundings?  Is  this  superiority  observed  by  any 
around  her? 

55.  Indicate  the  literary  quality  of  the  discussion  held  by  Polix- 
enes  with  Perdita  about  gillyflowers. 

56.  Contrast  the  scenes  of  Perdita  and  of  Ophelia  distributing 
flowers.     Note  the  emotional  effects  of  each. 

57.  How  is  the  singing  of  Autolycus  described  by  the  servant? 

58.  Characterize  this  scene  of  rustic  life.  Does  it  differ  in  any 
essential  particulars  from  the  rustic  life  glimpsed  in  As  You 
Like  It? 

59.  How  is  the  plighting  of  Perdita  and  Florizel  interrupted? 

60.  What  does  Perdita  say  after  the  discovery? 

61.  Does  the  Shepherd  show  any  feeling  for  Perdita  ? 

62.  What  strong  expression  does  Florizel  use  to  prove  his  faith? 
Is  there  sublimity  and  at  the  same  time  humour  in  the  expression? 
Quote  from  Shakespeare,  Addison,  and  Pope,  expressions  in  dif- 
fering ways  analogous  to  this. 

63.  What  is  the  principal  ingredient  of  Florizel's  love?  How 
does  he  compare  with  the  other  ideal  lovers  of  Shakespeare? 

64.  Shakespeare  seems  fond  of  exhibiting  certain  dominant 
traits  of  human  nature  in  opposite  sexes.  Compare  Florizel  and 
Helena  in  this  respect. 

65.  Do  ethical  considerations  enter  into  the  thoughts  of  Camillo, 
or  is  he  to  be  regarded  as  the  diplomatist  par  excellence,  with 
whom  successful  accomplishment  outweighs  the  means  employed? 

66.  What  course  does  Camillo  map  out  for  Florizel  ? 

178       , 


THE  WINTER'S  TALE  Questions 

67.  What  is  the  dramatic  effect  of  Autolycus's  soliloquy  begin- 
ning iv.  606  ? 

68.  How  is  Autolycus  brought  into  the  action  as  an  integral 
part? 

69.  What  treachery  against  Florizel  and  Perdita  does  Camillo 
plan? 

ACT   FIFTH. 

70.  What  change  do  you  note  in  the  people  of  Leontes's  court 
as  a  result  of  the  lapse  of  fifteen  years? 

71.  What  promise  does  Paulina  exact  from  Leontes? 

'J2.  Indicate  the  dramatic  effect  of  the  praises  of  Perdita  uttered 
by  the  Gentleman  in  Sc.  i. 

'J2)-  How  does  Florizel  report  his  marriage  and  account  for  his 
presence  in  Sicilia? 

74.  At  so  late  a  stage  of  the  drama  no  new  complication  could 
be  developed.  Show  how  the  one  resulting  from  Florizel's  false 
report  of  himself  is  quickly  resolved.  How  is  the  question  con- 
cerning the  identity  of  Perdita  prepared  for  solution? 

75.  Why  is  the  scene  of  the  recognition  of  Perdita  by  Leontes 
presented  in  narrative  form?  What  is  the  cumulative  effect  of 
the  method  of  presentation?  How  is  the  reconciliation  of  the 
kings  described? 

76.  What  traits  of  Paulina  are  emphasized  by  her  manner  ol 
receiving  the  revelations?  What  foreshadows  the  viv^fication  of 
the  statue? 

yj.  What  touch  of  nature  served  the  end  of  poetic  justice  in 
robbing  Autolycus  of  the  reward  of  the  revelation  and  giving  it  to 
the  Shepherd? 

78.  Does  Autolj^cus  repent  with  a  wink? 

79.  What  is  said  of  the  statue  and  its  sculptor? 

80.  Show  how  Shakespeare  manages  a  highly  theatrical  scene 
like  the  recognition  of  Hermione  to  give  it  dignity  and  impressive- 
ness.  Discuss  the  possibility  of  any  but  a  professed  actor  man- 
aging such  a  scene  and  not  overdoing  it.  From  this  point  of  view 
consider  the  theory  of  the  Baconian  authorship. 


81.  Point  out  some  of  the  structural  peculiarities  of  the  play ; 
its  false  geography;  its  anachronisms. 

82.  Show  in  what  ways  interposition  serves  as  a  motif  in  this 
play. 

*  179 


Questions  THE  WINTER'S  TALE 

83.  Was  Perdita  created  to  fill  the  gap  of  years  that  the  story 
demands  for  the  working  out  of  Leontes's  repentance,  or  is  the 
penitence-motif  subordinate  in  importance  to  the  Ferdita-motif 
and  does  it  only  serve  as  a  background  to  her? 

84.  Would  the  play  be  structurally  improved  if  the  story  of 
Hermione's  accusation  were  given  in  a  prologue  and  the  action  be- 
gan with  the  fourth  Act  ? 

85.  Show  in  what  ways  the  sentiment  of  childhood  is  used  as  a 
dramatic  motif. 

86.  Is  the  roguishness  of  Autolycus  paralleled  in  any  other  of 
Shakespeare's  plays? 

87.  Is  the  character  of  Leontes  essentially  comic?  Do  the 
tragic  elements  of  the  play  militate  against  the  comic  treatment, 
such  as  Moliere  has  given  to  the  character?  Hence,  is  Shake- 
speare's course,  by  mediation,  romantic? 


180 


I 


